Life Source
by Spazzilicious
Summary: When Jocelyn moves in to Jerry Dandridge's home, and her sister decides to pull out a ouija board, it awakens the spirit of the one vampire that Charley Brewster fought so hard to kill. Jerry/Charley/OC
1. Moving On Up

I looked around my new room, taking in the lack of warmth in it. I had just moved to Vegas from Canada, where it was really cold and guaranteed short summers anually. The room that Mom had given me (I figured she didn't want the creepiest room) had blacked-out windows, dark walls, and a box that held what looked like a cloth portrait of something, plus other possessions. It looked like it could be hung in a museum. Whoever the previous neighbour was, they definitely didn't like sunshine, rainbows and happiness.

A knock at the door made me turn to my mother, who had a heart-shaped face, dark auburn hair and brown eyes with pillow-shaped lips. She smiled softly, with that familiar gleam of amusement in her eyes that I had grown up with. I, meanwhile, had a square face, blond hair, brown eyes, and a pouty bottom lip.

"How do you like your new room?" she said, with her light Croatian accent.

"It looks like a morgue," I replied, giggling a bit at how frank I was. My lips stretched into a lopsided grin. Mom let out an amused sigh.

"Well, we can always fix that, starting with the horrible wall colour."

Good thing we hadn't moved in quite yet-this place needed to have a new look.

"Can we keep the blacked-out windows though? I like the privacy they give."

A month or two later, Mom, my sister Zoey, and I had moved into the house. Apparently the previous owner, Jerry Dandridge, had disappeared, so the house was abandoned. Mom got it for a great price, though. No one would even step foot in there for some reason (which I found very strange), making it an easy purchase so Mom didn't have to pay through her nose for the rest of her life when the mortgage bills came. Our neighbours, Jane Brewster and her son, Charlie, were really friendly and extremely happy that we had moved in. I liked Charlie's girlfriend, Amy. She was really nice, someone I could look up to outside of home.

I loved my room, too. The walls were painted a light sea blue, with a wooden floor and a black carpet with blue flowers as a pattern. My bed had white sheets and pillows, with a sapphire-colour comforter ontop. My bed was across from the closet, my dresser on the wall by the door to the room was, while my desk was at the opposite wall. I tried to keep it simple; a few pictures here and there, some soccer trophies on the shelf. There was a large mirror that was beside my bed, angled so when I got up, I could see what I looked like. There were plenty of lamps that followed the blue theme of my room. My room was great-bright and light during the day, dark and comfy when it was time to sleep.

And right now was one of those times where I wanted to sleep, since I was going to school tomorrow.

"Do you have your papers, Miss Harris?"

Registering for school was a pain in the ass. Seriously. I had to sort through a binder's worth of papers to get to the ones the school secretary needed, who then typed in all the needed information onto a computer and printed off my timetable.

"Your first class is literature. Hope you like it here," she gave me a friendly smile, and turned back to her computer.

"Thanks," I replied. I walked into the swarm of students buzzing about to get to their classes, and I briefly wondered whether I would get lost or shoved into a locker. I held the written note in my hand as tightly as I could as if it were a lifeline, because honestly, I was nervous to meet new people and adapt to a new environment. Thank God it was at least five minutes before the first period bell rang. I looked for the room I was supposed to be going to for Lit, but I had no clue where to even begin even though I got to tour around the school this morning.

A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, you look lost."

I sighed in relief. It was Charlie, my neighbour. His familiar curly, short brown hair and hazel eyes made me feel much calmer, but he was a head taller than me, so I had to look up.

"Yeah," I said stupidly,"Can you help me? I have no idea where I'm supposed to go."

"Sure. Can I see your timetable?" Charlie moved to stand beside me when I finally fished it out of my jeans pocket, holding it out to him as he read it.

"Oh, you're just around the corner to your left. Have fun with Mrs. Miller, she's something."

"Thank you."

"Anytime," Charile gave me a boyish smile I found really cute, despite him being two years older than me, "If you need help, just find me or Amy."

With that, he gave me a wink, and turned away to go to his classes. I smiled.

I had such an awesome neighbour.

After school, Charlie and Amy were nice enough to give me a ride home so I didn't have to walk. They kept the conversation light and interesting, and I laughed every time Amy slapped Charlie in the arm if he made a comment that was teasing toward her. They asked a lot of things, actually; did I like school so far, how I was adjusting to my new surroundings, and if I got lost today (I never admitted to being late for science). I loved being around them, because it was like having more siblings when my sister Zoey was off at college for her lessons for the day.

"See you tomorrow!" I called to them when I made my way up to my house, then entering it.

"I'm hooommmmeeee..." I sang.

Dropping my bag, I walked up the stairs and peeked into my sister's room. Zoey was sitting on the bed with a few of her college friends, whom acknowledged me quicker than my own sister. It looked like one of those cheesy sleep over scenes that you would find in a chick flick, but I entered the room.

"Hey Joce," Zoey greeted, "These are my friends I've been telling you about before you and mom moved up here. This is Kathryn" she gestured to the red-headed girl, "And this is Denise and Sam."

The two girls were twins, with green eyes, freckled faces and brown hair. Denise had a small beauty mark on her cheek by her nose-it was the only way I could identify them seperately.

"Hey," I said shyly.

A chorus of warm "hi's" and "hello's" were the responses I got from them.

"So, what's up?"

Zoey gave me a mischevious look, pulling something from underneath her pillow and showing me a square-looking piece of wood.

"Denise, Sam, Kathryn and I wanted to see if this really works, and since they're sleeping over and all, I thought it would be a great time to try this."

She unfolded the wooden square, revealing a Ouija board.


	2. Friday Fun Night

*_**Author's Note:**__ Hey everyone! Thanks for all the awesome reviews last chapter, I really appreciate the attention this story is drawing! Keep reading and reviewing (add some criticism/suggestions too!)Unfortunately I won't be posting as often as I like with school, work and all, but I'll do my best!*_

I was never the superstitious type, but when Zoey pulled out that Ouija board, there was some weird feeling that I couldn't describe that had shot through me. It seemed like a mix of dread and excitement, but I was far from either to actually call them my own emotions. I felt a queasiness settle in my stomach, even though I hadn't eaten anything that was bad or rotten. There was something peculiar about the house I couldn't quite put my finger on, and every nagging suspicion forced me to be more doubtful towards this idea of innocently playing with an item that dealt with the supernatural. After all, other kids my age used these things, and nothing bad ever happened to them...

As far as I knew.

We were in the living room, where only one lamp was on, "to add spooky effect," as my sister said. Mom wasn't going to home until early in the morning, so Zoey, Kathryn, Denise, Sam and I were sitting around the coffee table. Zoey and her friends chattered energetically as they debated on what questions they should ask the board, putting their hands on the marker. I, for one, wouldn't touch the thing. I couldn't bring myself to do it. My eyes were everywhere but the board and the puzzled expressions-the cream -coloured walls, the sofa, the armchair, even the atrocious painting my mom had put up on the wall but didn't have the guts to tell her so.

"Okay," Zoey said finally, "Let's do this."

I inhaled deeply. Here goes.

"Are there any spirits in this house?"

We held our breath collectively, waiting for something climatic to happen.

My thoughts strayed to how ridiculous I was being about the Ouija board, considering that Zoey and everybody else wasn't taking it too seriously. Why shoud I? I unconciously moved away from the table to lean back into the armchair, but I was still looking around the room, facing the table. My knees were pulled up to my chest, arms wrapped tightly around my legs, and I tensed when my skin suddenly prickled uncomfortably.

Just then, the marker moved, Zoey and company crying out in surprise.

"Oh my God! Did you see that? It said 'yes!'" Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah! That was totally..."

Oh boy. Here it comes.

"...A ruse!"

They all burst out laughing at Sam's level of gullibility, while her face turned beet red. The prickly skin I was feeling didn't let up, so my reaction was an eye roll and an inward groan, Of course they would do that; it was to be expected. My sister and her friends managed to calm their fits of laughter after a few minutes, again becoming their serious/joking selves, when they finally decided to ask the board the same question. I watched as they placed the marker back on the center of the Ouija board.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I blurted, suddenly aware of four sets of eyes staring at me as soon as those words left my mouth.

Crap. Now I wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Oh, come on, Joce! Don't tell me you believe in mom's stories of voodoo-magic."

"I'm not saying I believe," I said a little too quickly, "I'm saying that playing with a Ouija board and mocking it may not be the best idea."

I heard three voices chiding me for being so "annoyingly rational" and "believing too easily in ghost stories." Yup, that was me. The irritating, often unwanted voice of reason that nagged at everyone's conscience.

"Jocelyn could be right," Denise piped in, "We could be playing with fire, even though we're being harmless with our intentions."

i mouthed a grateful "thank you" to Denise when everyone shot disbelieving looks at her.

"What trouble could we possibly stir up with a wooden board?" Kathryn said, irked, "We couldn't piss anything off by asking what the first letter of the thing's name is."

I looked back and forth between Denise and Kathryn like a tennis match, feeling guilty for ruining their fun get-together night before they went back to college in a few days.

"Guys," Zoey stated loudly, "Guys! It's okay. I'm not going to use the Ouija board if it makes any of us uncomfortable."

Just then, the marker spun and slid across the board by itself, landing on the letter "J".

All of our eyes must've bulged like an insect's when we all saw it. It was as if Sam and Denise were on the same wavelength-they both shrieked in unison-Zoey, Kathryn and I were in complete shock, our jaws slack.

"Holy f-ack!"

I drew in a sharp gasp when a quick, sudden pain drew across the side of my neck. My hand flew up to the injury, and I scowled at the pain.

"Jocelyn! Are you alright?" Zoey sounded panicked, pulling my hand away from where I was holding my neck. She gasped as well.

"Oh my God, Joce! You're _bleeding!_"

No wonder why my neck and chest were feeling warm, wet and sticky. My sister pulled me to my feet, half-guiding me, half-pushing me towards the kitchen. All I managed to process was the pandemonium going on between the three girls in the living room, now having their wits frightened out of them. My hands were a red-orange colour that made me feel queasy when I looked at it. Zoey ran warm water in the sink, pulling my hand under it, then grabbing a clean dish towel she had dampened to wipe the blood of my neck and chest until it stopped bleeding.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Zoey asked.

I nodded, numb. What exactly happened?

"I'm going to tell them to go home-I'm so sorry, Joce."

She gave me a tight hug, and I quietly replied, "It's okay-really."


	3. Awkward

_**Author's Note:**__ Quick translations or facts you may need/want to know _

_T.M.I.= "too much information"_

_v-card= virginity_

_Awks= short for "awkward" _

_Margaret Mead (1901-1987) is an anthropologist who studied Samoan culture and compared it to American culture (correct me if I'm wrong!). If you want more details, look it up please!_

_ONTO THE CHAPTER! PLEASE WRITE AND REVIEW IT'LL BE MUCH APPRECIATED!_

Monday morning, everything seemed just fine. Zoey and I pretended that the "incident" never happened, we greeted eachother the way we normally did. I sat down at the table across from her, sipping at some tea that was supposed to relax me. I'd have to go to school today, and I really didn't want to, I was so unused to how everything was here. It was frustrating, all right. The courses were pretty different. Oh, and the people here. They seemed a bit crazier, if not more outspoken, in general about everything. That was where the acronym "T.M.I." came in. The only thing that seemed to be the same (and universal) would be the cliques of people-goths, preps, musicians, dancers, football jockeys, etc. at school. I had yet to be classified, depending on who I decided to hang out with for the rest of my high school life.

Being a sixteen-year-old is hard. Why couldn't North America be more like Samoa? The teens there don't worry about trivial things like designer labels, who lost their v-card, or even if someone had a horrible haircut. They just enjoyed themselves. Thank God for Margaret Mead's research!

I noticed that Zoey looked like she was thinking hard for some reason while I was doing my inward rant, staring at me like I held the answer to some long-lost secret.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She shook her head, closing her eyes and smirking as if she were in disbelief.

"Sorry, I sort of blanked on you there. Uhh, this is going to sound weird, what I'm about to ask you..."

"Okay. Shoot it at me."

She seemed hesitant, face turning a little pink. Great. She was embarassed about something.

"Spit it out, Zoey. It can't be that bad."

Her face turned more pink, "Errr...did you experiencing some kind of _touching _the other night?

"Touching?" I repeated, "What kind of touching? Like poking? Slapping?"

"Uhhhmmm, not exactly..."

A goofy-looking, ashamed smile of embarassment screwed her features up. Her extremely pink face had turned a deep red, and I suddenly realized what she meant.

"Oh. Dear Lord, child! You mean like _orgy_-causing touching? _Awks_..."

"Well? Did you?"

"No, I have not experienced any touching that would induce an orgasm. This is too weird- I think I'm gonna go to school now..."

_"Awwwwkkkkkkwwwaaaaaarrrrrrd_...!"I sang as I picked my bag up and ran out of the house to walk to school.

Phew. I was finally at school, far away from the awkwardness of my sister's experience. I thought that maybe she did some drinking or ate Mom's casserole-something. Or maybe she was hallucinating; the stress of college must've gotten to her before she even came back for her sophomore year...or maybe she bumped her head on something, or her nerves were haywire. I could say was abducted by aliens or some such, but that would have been a bit of a far stretch.

I was more likely to go for the "stress from college" thing, and her fantasies must've got involved somehow. _Yuck. _I slept pretty peacefully despite being scratched in the neck out of thin air on Friday.

My mind kept going back to that night, though. That feeling that had crossed my conscience felt so weird, it was like some kind of sense that something bad was going to happen. It was probably the superstition my mom had about Ouija boards that had made me so skittish, but I couldn't help it. The feeling was genuinely real.

At least I could get my mind off of it for a moment-I realized I had passed my assigned locker. I made a quick turn and headed back to it in one piece, weaving in and out of older groups of students who gave me the cut eye. I opened the door gently-one time I had a locker that had some rotting fruit thing in it when I was in Canada-and sighed in relief to see that it was clean. I shoved all the books and binders I didn't need in, and I was relieved that my backpack was much lighter now.

"Hey, Joce!" called a familiar voice.

I turned to see Charlie and Amy walking towards me, smiling and holding hands. They honestly looked like a happy couple, but it wasn't like they were around eachother twenty-four-seven-I thought that if two people were joined at the hip, one of them were bound to get sick of the other. Heck, it would make me feel sick too by just watching them. Charlie's curly light brown hair and bright eyes were just screaming a warm welcome, and Amy looked excited to see me. I liked her blond hair and blue eyes, too. I had hung out with them on the weekend, since Mrs. Brewster decided to invite us over as a welcome-to-your-new-home party. Personally, I loved Mrs. Brewster. She was like the aunt I never had. Charlie and Amy were like another pair of older siblings, they were relly funny when they were having mini-debates over stuff.

"Hi Amy, hey Charlie! What's up?"

"Not much," Charlie replied, "How was the rest of your weekend?"

"It was pretty good; got to prepare for school and everything. How about you?"

"Absolutely epic," Amy answered, and then they both launched into what happened to them. They had gone to the theater to see a movie, except they had debated on what they were going to see-Amy won the argument, though.

"Yeah, girl power!" I joked.

"More like evil blonds," Charlie quipped. Us girls gave him mocking surprised looks, then ganged up on him.

It was complete awesomeness.

I had come home around five or so, and had dinner with Mom and Zoey before Mom had to go to work. She gave both of us a kiss on the forehead, giving us the usual "I love you" phrase that all doting parents gave to their children, and left. Zoey disappeared somewhere in the house to get out of cleaning the table and the kitchen, but I let it slide this time. I was still feeling awkward about this morning, and I wasn't about to let her delve into any detail about what she felt over the weekend. I put all the dishes beside the sink, grabbing a damp cloth. I pulled off all the mats on the table first, shaking out any crumbs into the garbage and putting them off to the side, then wiped the table. I walked back to the sink, rinsing it out and then starting with the dishes. The plug was in, and I let the water run with some soap in it, putting the dishes in as the sink filled.

Zoey had come around the corner, and I turned to look at her.

"Hey, Dad just sent me a text. Did you want to see him?"

"Not really," I said dryly.

"You really should see him, you know."

"He's not exactly someone I look up to, Zoey." I said, "Would you want to be around someone who seems to use everyone else as a scapegoat?"

"All right. I'll be in my room if you need me."

With that, she left, and I turned back to the dishes.

I knew my sister didn't want to upset me, and I didn't blame her. There were just too many bad feelings between me and my father, even though my mother and Zoey were trying to mend the relationship. I couldn't forget how he put his hands on all of us when he was angry, and then blamed his outbursts on us. He even had the audacity to stick to his stories. It angered me to even think of him, and I found myself punching the shit out of a wall one time to get rid of the frustration. He was the reason that we moved here in the first place, and I had no intention to go back through those memories.

Honestly, it hurt to even think about how he treated my mother.

I was finished washing the dishes, putting them in their rightful spots in the cabinets, and then put the mats back on the table. I was still stewing slightly about my father, but I wasn't as angry as I was before when my sister mentioned him fifteen minutes ago. I pulled my hair into a ponytail when I finished, and sighed. Time for homework-

"_Jocelyn..."_


	4. That Was You, Right?

_***Author's Note: **__Haaaayyyyyy! Fourth chapter everyone! Thanks so much for putting up with the mundane chapters, I was just trying to set up the story for what I have planned for the plot Anyways, PLEASE (with a cherry ontop!)READ AND REVIEW, I'd like to hear your opinions/suggestions/comments/criticisms/tomatoes, and I'll do my bestest best to reply!_

_READ ON!__*****_

Was I hearing things? I could've sworn my name was just called...

"_Jocelyn..." _

Okay, THAT was definitely my name.

I felt goosebumps run wildly up and down my arms, and I had to lean on the kitchen table for support, looking around to see where the source of this calling was. It wasn't anything I could define as male or female, because it was just barely a whisper. Maybe it was Zoey playing a trick on me?

Then again, it was a bit early for halloween.

"_Jocelyn, Jocelyn..." _

I decided I would confront my sister and ask her stop calling my name. It was just too creepy, and I needed to be able to get up tomorrow for school.

I stood up and walked slowly around to the living room, suddenly feeling as if I were being watched. I found a piece of paper on the table that had my sister's writing-a note. _Went out to get some groceries, _it said, _I'll be home ASAP. _I didn't even hear her leave the house, I must've been more peeved earlier than I thought.

I made my way up the stairs to her room-she was notorious for leaving dishes in there-opening the door as gently as I could, I spotted what I was looking for. Of course she left a plate on her homework desk. I grabbed it, coming back down the stairs towards the sink in the kitchen. Once I was there, I turned the water back on and grabbed the sponge and put some soap on it. My neck felt itchy where that cut was from that ouija board incident, but I ignored it since whatever my sister's dinner had been had caked onto the plate she was using. I kept looking behind me, too, the goosebumps hadn't eased for some reason. I frowned. Why did I feel that I had to look behind me every few seconds?

The hairs on the back of my neck raised. I felt what I would imagine as a pair of imaginary eyes on me, boring holes into the back of my head. How come this felt like some fucking horror movie? I clutched the clean, wet dish in my hands.

And my blood ran cold when some cool breeze washed over the back of my neck, something feather-light running over the cut lightly. I whipped around-

But saw nothing.

Just an empty kitchen.

Holy fuck. What was going on?

I could feel my heart start to pick up pace and hammer against my chest as my stomach clenched. My hands went cold and sweaty and clammy. Maybe a window was open upstairs and it was chilly outside, therefore a cool breeze came downstairs-_but how was it possible for a breeze to travel from all the way upstairs, through Zoey's closed bedroom door, down the stairs, and around to the kitchen? _nagged a thought. I swore inwardly for my stupidity. It wouldn't explain my sudden sickness or my hands, my excuse.

The tension I felt this whole time seemed to build, leaving this overwhelming sense that something bad was going to happen. It reminded me of all the horror movies I had seen, where the tension would build, the character looked terrified, and the psycho killer was about to be upon them as soon as it was the perfect moment. And BLAM! They'd scream, they'd die. I felt like that at the moment, but I had yet to be attacked.

I felt something like a pair of steel bars wrap tightly around my neck and waist, causing me to drop the plate in my hands. It shattered dramatically when it hit the floor, pieces flying all directions on the floor. My body felt frozen solid, and I couldn't move, I couldn't choke out a sound. I was held against some electrically-charged, cold wall, and any sound I tried to make caught in my throat.

"_Jocelyn..."_ The voice called my name again, but this time it was right by my ear, and the cold breeze hit my neck again. I gasped for air-it was so tight around my neck, and I still couldn't form any kind of noise. I couldn't even see what or who it was that had me in a chokehold/hug. Completely invisible, it seemed.

_"Help me..." _

The one steel-like bar loosened slightly around my neck, but I was frightened beyond common sense to scream. I was completely paralyzed despite the loosening, still feeling as if I couldn't make a sound.

A soft, cold something pressed against where the cut was on my neck, and I started to feel drained of energy suddenly. My limbs felt like lead weights, a tingling sensation taking my head as the world seemed to rotate slowly. Black ate away at the edges of my vision, until I was enveloped in it completely.

I couldn't tell you what happened after that...

"Jocelyn," said a quiet voice.

"Hmmm..." I groaned.

"Wow, Joce. You must've felt really tired."

"What time is it, Z?" I murmured groggily.

I opened my eyelids, with some difficulty. I felt like complete shit. I was aware of my sister sitting beside me on the bed, with a hand rubbing my back gently.

"It's a little after one in the morning...Mom said she won't be home until seven, so she can't take you out like she promised. I can pick you up, though. It'll be our sisterly bonding time before I go back to college, okay? It'll be a lot of fun!"

Zoey was trying to be quiet, I could tell, but the excitement she felt for shopping caused her to be a little louder than she meant to.

"Okay," I gave her a sleepy grin, "I love shopping..."

I heard an amused sigh leave my sister, who ruffled my hair and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, "Go to sleep, hon. See you when you wake up."

"G'night..."

I watched her through droopy eyelids as she left my room, tiptoeing as quietly as she could to her own. I relaxed, preparing to drift back into sleep...I vaguely wondered how I got into my room...

My back felt like it was still being rubbed in soft, slow circles between my shoulderblades, despite my sister leaving the room just a few seconds ago. But I didn't care. I was going to sleep.

Even though I couldn't make sense of it due to how drowsy I was, I should've known that it was the start of something that even a hard-to-surprise teen could prepare for.


	5. The Morning After

_*__**Author's Note:**__ Goodness, it's been soooo long since I updated this damn story! Just joking, this story is my baby :P This chapter's a wee bit on the mundane side, I've been so busy with school and all, but I hope you still enjoy it nonetheless. Please, READ AND REVIEW, I'd like to hear any comments, questions, concerns and the like. Every writer needs an audience of constructive critics to get better!*_

__

Ugh. Stupid alarm clock...

__

Leave me alone, I'm tired...

__

Shut up already, you STUPID piece of plastic...

_****_

I slammed my hand down on the snooze button, groaning in irritation. I throbbed painfully, like I had been hit in the head and then tackled to the ground. My skin prickled in discomfort too, like I had a fever. What the hell happened to make me feel so _shitty? _I knew I had finished cleaning in the kitchen, washed a dish from Zoey's room...and then jumped from behind...?

By _AIR? _What the hell was I thinking? Maybe I was hallucinating last night, or maybe there was something I was stressed about and I had an anxiety attack.

But it felt _very _real...

I didn't have any time to ponder about last night, Zoey bursting through the door for my daily wake up call even though I was already awake. Her smug grin clued me in to what exactly she was going to do.

Torture.

"Wake up honey-bunch!"

She jumped ontop of the bed, shaking the matress violently, and I groaned, throwing the pillow over my head. First the alarm clock, now this _thing _ that I call my sister. She whipped the covers off my feet, grabbing one foot and running her nails up and down lightly. I kicked uselessly at her, "Leave me _alone!" _

"Not until you get up! Rise and shine!"

"No! I wanna sink and get dull..." I groaned again. Zoey ran her nails up and down my foot onc e more, causing me to roll out of my bed to get away from her. I took down the sheets with me-at least I was still surrounded with warmth-and landed on my side clumsily.

"You gave me a contusion on my ass, Z. Thanks."

"You're welcome, sis. Now get up."

*_Charley's POV*_

It had been about a week or two since Jocelyn, her sister Zoey and mother moved in. Personally, I liked Jocelyn-she was like a younger cousin or sister to me. She had darker blond hair than my girlfriend Amy, brown eyes, and was on the petite side. She hung out with us a lot, but more so with Amy, since I was going to college soon- and I had managed to meet her on the first day of her new high school and help find her classes. Amy and Jocelyn had become very quick friends, too-they texted each other constantly, went to the mall together, girly stuff like that.

I had to tell them I couldn't come because the mall would feminize me. They laughed. Jocelyn said she'd bring a dress back for me. I actually liked having more company around, especially after what happened two years ago with Jerry. I mean, who the fuck knew your own _neighbour _was a vampire? Personally, I preferred not to think about it, but Jocelyn moved into the house with her mom and sister (who was going to the same college as I was) and I couldn't help but let those thoughts take over. They made the house look pretty nice, got rid of most of the blacked-out windows and stuff, made the place seem lighter, as if nothing had happened.

But for some reason just _looking _at the house made my stomach clench. It shouldn't have bothered me so much, 'cause Pete and me killed Jerry, for God's sake, and everyone was safe now.

I guess it bothered me because I felt the need to at least _tell _Jocelyn or someone in that house what dealing with Jerry was like. Of course, I couldn't outright say "Jerry, the person who used to live here, was a _vampire_. So, uh...he tried to kill the whole block and he turned my girlfriend into a bloodsucking monster but everything was solved because a Vegas magician and me killed him." That would have gone over _SO _well. Especially with the cops.

Maybe I should at least tell them what it was like to live with him, just to get it off my chest-Amy and me would never mention the incident to each other, it was so taboo.

I wonder what it would be like if I actually _told _someone at Jerry's old house that said previous owner was a freaking bloodsucking leech.

*_Jocelyn's POV*_

I had finally been left alone when my sister tortured me awake, but I still felt like shit. Bed was made with difficulty, walking around was a challenge, but I had managed to grab what I needed for a shower after brushing my teeth. I figured a hot shower would be a good attempt to ease the aching muscles and sensitive skin. I ran the water, pulled off my pajamas and climbed in, instantly feeling some relief to crawl into my own private world of thoughts.

I think about a lot when I'm alone. Sometimes I can't help it, the thoughts just keep running to the front of my mind and I have to acknowledge that sometimes it upsets me. Especially when it comes to my father, they were so many things I couldn't bring myself to deal with. Zoey and Mom were more forgiving towards him, I guess, but I still had issues with him because he was such a bastard when my sister and I were growing up. I guess you could say I was the one who was the easy target, being the youngest and all. I would be so angry at myself for not being strong enough to stop him from hurting everyone when I was younger, but I knew there was nothing any of us could do.

I was the only one who inherited my dad's hot temper. The day I decided to do something about my dad's abusive behaviour, he must've regretted ever putting his hands on me.

And I would gladly hit him again if he came after anyone I cared about, or me.

A shadow caught the corner of my vision and I pulled out of my thoughts immediately, freezing. Don't tell me I was seeing things again. I washed the shampoo out of my hair quickly, pulling the curtain back a little to peek out into the rest of the bathroom.

Nothing. Just me.

What was _wrong _with me?

As soon as I was done with the shower, I dried myself, got changed into my clothes, and grabbed my school bag to bring downstairs. I was just about to start walking out of the room when I felt something like a hand take a small section of my hair .

I heard some form of inhaling.

I turned around quickly, staring at an empty room. What the _hell_? I gave it one last sweep before I continued my way downstairs, a bit creeped out-I had goosebumps crawling up and down my arms wildly again.

I think I may start actually hating this house.

***Fina**l **Note: **Lately, I've been reading _The_ _Catcher In The Rye _by J.D. Salinger, and I'm wondering if the narration from Jocelyn sounds a bit like the main character's, Holden Caulfield. I'll probably have to keep tabs on that O.o*


	6. Good Morning, Oh Shit

_**Author's Note: **__Oh my gosh, I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR LIKE A BILLION YEARS! I've been meaning to do it, but since I'm in the 11__th__ grade, homework keeps piling up and it's getting closer to exam time, so my teachers are squeezing in as much work as they can before moratorium! I promise I won't make you wait so long again! _

_Please, READ AND REVIEW (private messages are appreciated too) and enjoy the chapter!_

"How's school so far, Joce? You like it?"

Zoey and I were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping at coffee (correction-_she _was sipping at coffee, not me. I had tea.) in a comfortable silence. I liked the silence in the morning, especially after your sister tortured you awake. It gave me some time to think about what I wanted to do for the day. Well, maybe some smart comebacks, too. I doodled on the small blank margins of the newspaper while I answered.

"Pretty good. I've started getting used to my timetable, made a few friends here and there, but I have no idea what clique I wanna stay with."

"As long as it's a clique everyone approves of-especially Mom- you know how she's finicky about that stuff. What about the neighbours? I see you hanging around Charlie and Amy a lot, so it must be a good sign." Zoey smiled her _I'm-so-glad-you-found-friends _smile, and I knew she really was happy that I was at least _trying _to be social, but I think it made her even happier that I was being social with her.

When we were living with Dad, I barely said a word to anyone, afraid I would say the wrong thing and cause chaos in the house. I shut a lot of people out, actually. I wouldn't even talk to my best friend back in Canada about my home life. I was too depressed, and I didn't want the school to get involved. Children's Aid Society would have just made everything worse than it already was. Zoey was lucky, she left for Vegas to go to school a year before Mom and I left.

But I was glad we were out of the situation. If we hadn't left my dad a year ago, I wouldn't be sitting with my sister, having a normal conversation with her.

"Yeah, Charlie and Amy are a riot. They're actually really funny, and they're always interested in what I have to say, like you. Mrs. Brewster is really nice, too. She's always inviting me into her house for a drink or something when I offer to help her with her gardening. What about you, Z? Are you excited to go back to college? Meet some guy friends?" I teased her a bit about meeting guy friends quite often, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Naw, you know me. My 'guy friends' are my school books. Maybe after college, though. There's this one guy I think has potential. He's pretty good-looking."

"Cool. If you get married and have a kid, can I be the first one to visit my future niece or nephew?"

"Woah," Zoey said," Hold up there a second. I never said anything about a kid or marriage."

I grinned broadly, trying not to laugh.

"Bugger," she muttered, grabbing her plate and putting it into the sink.

I giggled, "I had you going there, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I'm gonna get even with you."

I looked up at her briefly, and stopped cold when my gaze came back to where Zoey was just a moment ago, at the table.

The silhouette of what looked like a very tall man (pretty built, too, I might add) was standing on the side where my sister was sitting, across from me. It seemed like he was staring at me..._intensely_. My breath caught, my heart started beating frantically,and it was like I couldn't move. I ripped my eyes from what I was seeing to where my sister was, who had turned the radio on low and was humming along to whatever was playing and drinking a fresh cup of coffee. Wasn't she seeing what I was seeing over here? There was a freaking MAN standing infront of me in broad daylight!

"H-hey, Zoey..." I called weakly.

I looked back to where the silouette was standing, and almost cried out in frustration-it was gone, _like EVERYTHING else _I had felt. I was going to get ready to scream at the man to get the hell out of the house.

"What's up, Joce?" Zoey replied casually, "Everything alright?"

She asked the last question with so much underlying concern (only a sister would catch onto it), I must've been so obvious-I was pretty sure I'd paled in skin colour, and my jaw was a bit slack. I just couldn't pull my eyes away from that one spot.

"Uhh...nevermind."

Good fucking gracious, I must be losing my mind.

The day went by like a vicious blur, lessons bleeding into each other, questions merging and morphing into this animal called confusion; school bells seemed to have no voice, and the teachers' constant nagging fell on my already deaf teen ears. I couldn't think straight, the pain and crappy feeling I had this morning had come back in the form of a throbbing headache. It just _pulsed_ every time I had to stand up or sit down, or even answer a simple math question. I took some aspirin with me this morning just in case, so it looked like it would come in handy with a little water.

I was on my knees, bent over the toilet bowl and hurling like no tomorrow after the day was over. It felt awful, like someone had taken their fist and was doing the Heinlick manuevure over and over. Yum. Nothing like hydrochloric acid to burn your throat, and then taste your partially digested breakfast from this morning. Just absolutely fucking wonderful. I didn't know what had set it off, but I was assuming it wasn't my breakfast since I pretty much had the same thing almost everyday, so...it must've been a symptom of the crappy feeling from this morning. I pretty much never got sick, but this...this was completely ridiculous. This wasn't me at all. My head's throbbing had receded after another episode of up-chucking, enough so I could finally ignore the pain and get up without my world tilting on its axis.

I staggered a little from the cubicle, dizzy, to the girls' bathroom sink to rinse my mouth out furiously to remove the disgusting taste of bile. Strings of saliva/water/bile hung from my mouth briefly, only to be quickly washed away by clean water until there was no more. Oh, man, what a sight I was! My eyes were red-rimmed from the mad watering of my eyes, my nose was running, my hair was a little messed, and I was as pale as the off-white wall of the bathroom. I looked like I had gone to Hell and back. I felt tired; sickness was not one of the things I liked to deal with, like most people, and I didn't like playing into it either. Who would feign illness for benefits? Definitely not me. I'd kill myself before I did that.

I thought a little fresh air would help me greatly, so I made my way out of the school with things in tow and walked it off. I did feel better after about five or ten minutes, the headache almost gone and the dizziness leaving me completely. It felt like I was spinning at one moment when I made my way to sitting down on the school's front stairs. I had to wait for Zoey to pick me up, so we could go shopping and hang out like normal sisters did. Was it even a good idea for me to go, though I just emptied my stomach?

Speaking of an empty stomach, I was hungry. It seemed to agree-it growled loudly when the realization hit me. _What is _wrong _with you?, _you might wonder, _you're not supposed to feel hungry after losing it. _

But feel hungry I did. And my stomach growled again. I frowned. I hoped Zoey wouldn't take too long.

Sooner or later, while I was wallowing in my misery, Zoey had pulled up and honked to get my attention. Her modest dark blue car was parked infront of the stairs, happily clunking along to the tune of an empty school and amazingly hot weather, like always in Las Vegas. I made my way over.

"Hey, Zoey." I greeted as I got in and closed the door behind me, "What's up?"

"Not much, actually. Just hung out in the house the whole, day..." she had trailed off, looking suddenly past me and outside as if she were recalling something peculiar, judging from the way her brows furrowed together.

I couldn't help but give her a quick questioning look, but a small tingling went up my spine when I thought about the last time she had trailed off like that. She experienced something again, didn't she? She wasn't the kind of person to immediately say '_hey, i just experienced some supernatural phenomenon last night!_' to anyone. Just to me, though. 'Cause we trusted each other and anything that was said between us would stay between us. Huh. Kinda sounds like the Vegas motto. _What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. _I was less likely to believe that, knowing how most people seemed to have verbal diarrhea when something was meant to be sealed and locked behind closed doors. Oh well. If only sayings could apply to real life.

"Uhhh...Zoey? You're scaring me."

My sister snapped out of her thoughts, blinking quickly, "Oh?"

"If you don't feel like shopping, we can go home and still have sisterly bonding time."

"Oh, it's fine. It 's just that the house seems...I don't know-weird? I keep thinking someone is watching me all the time, it's so uncomfortable. I mean, I keep thinking I'm seeing a shadow of a guy out of the corner of my vision every time I look around."

"Have you ever looked at it dead-on?" I blurted. After all, I saw a full-out shadow figure thing this morning.

"No...have _you_? Please, Joce; don't tell me I'm crazy."

How do you tell your sister that you were attacked the previous night, woke up in your room with no memory of how you got there, feeling like shit, seeing an apparition, and recently upchucking everything you had in your stomach? She would feel awful that she pulled out that Ouija board on Friday, and I didn't want her to feel any guilt. Besides, the scratch/cut was healing nicely.

"I haven't seen anything," and I quickly added at the incredulous face she made, "But I believe you, Zoey. I know you wouldn't make that stuff up for shits and giggles."

"Thank you, Joce. I know you'll always back me up."

"Zoey?"

"Ya?"

"Can we go shopping now?"

Zoey grinned and sighed, "Of course, my little mall minion."

She pulled away from the school and we were off.


	7. Party

_**Authour's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait (wow, so much time already, huh?) I was trying to figure out this chapter...didn't want to make it sound ridiculous. I hope you like this chapter, this is where things are supposed to pick up and get a little more interesting for all you awesome readers. **_

_***SORRY, I HAD TO CHANGE A BIT FROM THE CHAPTER 'CAUSE IT WAS BROUGHT TO MY ATTENTION SOMETHING WASN'T ACCURATE! Extreme apologies to everyone**__**, all you readers, I made a boo-boo on my facts :( I thought the house Ed was turned at and Jerry's house were the same place, but here's my reasoning as to why:**_

_**1) The house is abandoned in the movie, so I assumed it was Jerry's house since he lives in one**_

_**2) The back entrances look the same to me (dude, the houses look very similar, I thought the glass door could have been replaced by an actual door, assuming it was Jerry's house) **_

_**3) I don't have anymore reasoning than that, so now's your chance to say "I told you so!" and I'll say, very nicely, "Shut up, it was a mistake!"**_

_****And YES, there is significance with the cross in this chapter, but I won't give you the reason. That's for you to follow up on by READING THIS STORY! ;)**_

_**PLEASE, read and review, I want to hear comments/questions/suggestions through reviews and private messages so I can make this story as fantastic as possible! **_

_**REVIEWS ARE **__**LOVE!**_

_I hung to the ceiling like I was fucking Spiderman. The mass of hot, sweaty bodies all dancing on the club dancefloor like a bunch of sardines were below me-but I was not interested in that. I wanted something else. I leapt down gracefully from the ceiling onto the dancefloor, the crowd barely even noticing that I had just "magically" appeared from out of nowhere to be part of the excitement. My eyes darted around to see where my little angel and her boyfriend went, since all the peoples' scents were mixing and mingling together and pretty much making it all that much more difficult to pinpoint any specific person. Don't get me wrong; I could get anyone in this room to be my next meal...wait, who was I? I did not wear a dog tag, I did not hang from ceilings. I didn't even have great eyesight or even a decent sense of I felt...powerful. Like I could take anything I want at any time with no one to get in my way._

_I had no time to ponder the peculiarity of this, as it was like I was in the backseat tied and gagged in someone's car and just watching what the driver was doing. My head turned when I heard cries of distress come from the people I was looking for when a large crowd of party-goers had started stampeding for the free money that was being thrown by the DJ in the loud, obnoxious nightclub. I stalked past the people who were stragglers for the money-throwing, closing in on the target I was really after...her blond hair was the first thing I saw, then her white dress. _

_My viewpoint changed. I felt smaller; weaker than I had. All I saw was the swarm of bodies dancing the night away while I searched frantically for someone, feeling lost and terrified over the fact I was seperated from them. What was I going to do? I was being hunted by something that I never took seriously, and now it was literally survival of the fittest. _

_I felt someone behind me and I turned around. I was startled; it was the person who was hunting me...dark hair that was combed back; hungry, predatory eyes just watching for the moment to pounce when I most vulnerable. He gave me an unnerving smile that said _I've got you now, _but was in the same way luring and unfairly attractive when I said something about the person I was seperated from would find me. _

_"I'm counting on it," he said._

_My scenery changed as soon as he said that, suddenly shifting into some kind of unrecognizable cavernous basement with some kind of a small house at the far side. The man I had been running from was silently standing before me, and I had the relief of knowing I was finally in my own body. I was smaller than the frightened person I was looking through; but I still felt terrified out of my mind when I saw him. I was standing at the base of an enormous mound of dirt that was loose and difficult to stand on. I looked up at him..._

_"Please," I felt my mouth move on its own,"Please...I don't..."_

_He gave me an amused smirk, eyeing me carefully, trapping his prey with good promises and shitty results. _

_"of course you want it...you were born for this, Jocelyn. That's why I chose you." _

_Fangs were showing in his mouth as he grinned broadly, taking a cautious step towards me. I felt unnaturally calm when I looked him straight in the eyes, suddenly pacified from all the horror I felt , believing what he said. Everything would be alright. Jerry was right. He knew everything there was needed to know, he had lived long enough. He understood my pain. He would protect me, treat me like I was important to him. I was precious. No one would touch me... _

_I snapped out of the lulled feelings when he had gently but firmly grabbed the back of my hair and started to pull me towards him. _

_"No," I blurted desperately, trying to pull myself away, "No, please." _

_He held on tighter, twisting my neck so it was exposed to him. His free hand stroked loose strands of my hair away from it, running his fingers lightly down to my collarbone and then wrapping his arm around my waist. _

_"Stop!" I gasped, struggling feebly against steel bars...wait...steel bars, like earlier, in the kitchen..._

_"It's too late, Jocelyn," he said smoothly._

_He tilted his head back, taking a deep breath as if he were in ecstacy at the thought of whatever he was going to do. He came back down fast; his teeth flashed before me. _

_And the pain hit my neck like it was on fire. _

I woke up with a start, my hand shooting up to my neck as I sat straight up in a barely lit room. The cut that was healing ached slightly, but the panicked feeling was fresher and more intense. I was breathing hard, sweaty and cold, and my eyes darted around the room wildly for a few seconds. What the hell was that? I couldn't be that crazy-I had no reason to be. Maybe it was because I decided to watch that psychological thriller with Zoey when I went out with her just hours ago, and I didn't realize how much it would affect me. Twilight sucked; why would I even dream about vampires in the first place? That was no Edward Cullen, dark brooding extroadinaire, extreme douchebag in the did that blond girl seem so familiar? And who's name did I recall in the dream?

The only thing that stood out most was the teeth that were flashed by that guy I was running from, and, of course, the searing pain in my neck. It felt like he was biting into my jugular for whatever reason...shit. It definitely was a crazy dream about a vampire. I tried not to think about it too much, swinging my feet off the bed and getting up to walk over to the mirror in my room. My hair looked a bit mussed; my messy bedsheets I could see off the reflection in the background; and my pajama shorts and loose tank top were a tad wrinkly. I looked over my arms and legs, then my chest. I was going to look up at my face, but I stopped at where I felt those teeth bite into me in my dream...

"_Shit." _I mouthed to the mirror.

I was pretty sure I'd paled in colour at what I saw, any normal person would. First the cut, and now this _marking._

There was a bruise-coloured marking on my neck that looked like a bitemark...where I was bitten in my dream, on the side where the cut was from the Ouija board incident. I just gawked at it, it looked like an extreme hickey...but _teeth marks_?Are you kidding me? It wasn' that dark of a blue/purple, but it was noticeable nonetheless.

I padded to the bathroom, brushing my teeth furiously, taking a shower, and then making my way to Zoey's bathroom to find her makeup as soon as I had dried my hair and got dressed. Where was the crap she put on to make her skin look even? I pulled out a drawer, rummaging through her makeup bag to find what I was looking for. Nope, nope, nope...since when did she use bright orange lipstick? And orange _eyeshadow_? Nevermind...

"Find what you're looking for?"

I jumped at the sound of Zoey's voice, nearly dropping the makeup bag in my hands.

"Oh, hey Zoey...do you have any foundation or concealer?"

"Why?"

" 'Cuz."

"Why?"

"Because."

"What's that on your neck?"

"I dunno. It was there when I woke up."

"That's why you want it? You haven't been canoodling with any boys, have you?"

"Of course not, Zoey!" I exclaimed, "I just had a weird dream and I woke up with _this..._I guess."

"That must be some dream..are you expressing your inner sexual desires in your dreams?" she teased.

"This isn't the time to be Sigmund fucking Freud, Zoey. Besides, you shouldn't be talking; you felt someone _touching _you in the middle of the night."

I knew my sister was teasing me, but I just wasn't in the mood after such a bizarre dream and discovering a HUGE hickey/bitemark-looking thing on my neck. I got very little satisfaction from seeing Zoey blush furiously, and then reply with something very mature and adult-like: "Shut up."

I fumbled around with her makeup bag, continuing my search for the evasive cover I needed. My face burned furiously at the frustration; I should have paid more attention to the kinds of makeup my mother and sister applied to their skin when I was younger, but I had no interest in the stuff at the time, so I guess I missed out. I felt my sister watching me, but I made no move to look up and ask her for help, I was pretty peeved and disturbed. I mean, I could barely remember the dream now that I was awake, and the face of the guy who bit me was blurred and distorted in my memory, along with almost every other detail aside from being mistaken for a piece of food. And the pain. It felt so real!

"Here," Zoey said suddenly, grabbing the bag from my hands and taking a look through it, "Let me cover that for you. Mom'll be upset if she sees that."

Wow, one day left until Zoey went back to college. Mom said so at breakfast, and I felt lonely as soon as I heard those words leave her mouth. I wouldn't see my sister very often for months, and it depressed me. I sighed heavily, thinking about how much time alone I would be spending without my sister and my mother doing her extremely long shifts at the hospital as a doctor. We barely saw her enough as is, but she was picking up more twenty-four-hour shifts that would keep her out of the house and temporarily what felt like out of my life for a while. And this house gave me the biggest creeps of all times now. I constantly felt like I was being watched; I had passed out in the kitchen with no memory of how I got to my room; I thought someone had sniffed my hair when I was leaving my room; and I had this enormous hickey-coloured bitemark on my neck after that fucked up dream. And now it felt like I was being watched while I was _sleeping, _and someone was stroking my hair like I was some kind of pet to them in the middle of the night. It was becoming more apparent that something was wrong with this house, and Zoey, Mom and I were in the middle of the shit storm.

Anyway, Zoey was planning a "going away" party before she left for her and her friends, but it was going to be done on the night my mom was leaving for work..which meant _lots _of friends and possibly smashed and/or stoned idiots lying around all over the place just waiting to be scraped up off the floor with a shovel. Which also meant I would be cleaning the mess. Sigh. If only things could take care of themselves. I would have to lock my door, carry mace, and take every safety precaution so nothing would catch me by surprise, and be extremely vigilant about it. I was going to commit murder one if I caught anyone getting busy in any of the bedrooms.

I sat in the middle of the living room with Zoey, helping her decorate a large white banner for her party, while Mom was in her bedroom sleeping so she could function for her next shift. I was painting in large letters that spelt "GOOD LUCK" in some fancy calligraphy (but not too fancy), while Zoey was getting some glitter stuff to put around the borders of the letters. We had drawn in all the designs for the large banner in pencil, so it wasn't like we were going to make any mistakes on it.

"Hey, can you pass those sparkles?"

"Okay."

Zoey had sprinkled a little of the gold glitter into the paint on the banner while it was still pretty wet, but I liked the effect it made, and the border Zoey was going to do with the glue and glitter was going to make it look great. And yes, Zoey called glitter "sparkles" but I was used to it. Glitter was sparkly, so why not just call it "sparkles"? Says my sister, the _very girlie _girl that she was.

"Hey, Zoey...just wondering, but is anyone going to get drunk tonight? I don't wanna fend off a bunch of crazy college people."

Truth was, I was a bit uneasy with the party. Not because my mom was going to be absentminded of it, oh no. Zoey had thrown plenty of parties before and never had gotten in trouble for it (because she promised she wouldn't "allow" alcohol) with Mom over the years, since she had cleared out everyone who was smashed or high before our mother came home, or figured out that there _were _drunk people at the party. Funny how favourite broken vases found in the garbage tell a story, huh? Of course, I got in trouble, too. I hid in my room, and then I would come out after the party was done and clean up the mess the wild people had left. I was tired of having to clean up after my sister so often, but I guess that's how things get done around here.

Later, I was holed up in my room and waiting for the jungle downstairs to fall asleep. Maybe it was fun for my sister, but I needed to sleep. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open, they kept drooping so badly as I lied on my bed, blasting my own music to keep me awake. I was already tired from school, setting up for the party, and all the cleaning and homework I had to do. The heat outside wasn't helping, because as soon as I got into a cooler spot, I managed to feel more relaxed and very sleepy. It was only a little past midnight, but it felt like I hadn't slept for a long time. On top of that, ever since I had passed out in the kitchen, I had felt drained of energy. I pinched myself to stay awake. If I didn't get up soon, I would be out, and the mess that Zoey's parties usually resulted in would be Zoey's downfall, as well as mine when Mom came home.

I left the window in my room open as well; the breeze that had flown through the room was warm and relaxing, not exactly helping my trying to get up. My eyes had drifted close, and I fell into a light sleep.

My eyes opened quickly from a cool breeze that felt more like a breath touch below my ear, waking me from my slumber. I blinked groggily a couple times, sitting up. It was almost two in the morning, and the house was dead silent. I pulled my headphones out of my ears. I guess the party was over, the earliest ending to date for my sister. Reluctantly pulling myself off the bed, I brushed my teeth quickly and padded down the upstairs hallway and staircase to the main floor, where junk was littered everywhere. Beer bottles, the telltale red paper cups, crumbs, the whole nine yards. I sighed crankily. Of course, Zoey was passed out on the couch-curled within the arms of some random guy I didn't know-while the rest of the house seemed vacant. So I went to work, awake, but still having sleepiness at the edges of my eyes, and started to clean up. I had grabbed a garbage bag and began collecting cups and other rubbish and collateral damage that was everywhere throughout the house, not stopping to look out the window to see if there was crap outside. There probably was.

I had finished cleaning everything, pushing into the garage at the side of the house and dumped all the garbage into the bin-it had taken two bags, it was ridiculous-and made my way to the backyard to have some peace to myself. It was now at least four or four-thirty in the morning, maybe later, I didn't know. Frankly, I just wanted to go back to sleep. I wandered past the side door into the house and was met by some leftover clothing in the backyard..._clothing? Seriously? _If it wasn't the bedroom, it just _had _to be in the backyard. From what I could tell from my heavy lids, it looked like a t-shirt, maybe a pair of panties, and a wrapper that I already knew had just confessed the seemingly innocent sin that took place here.

_I hope they get a rash from some plant behind the house for fornicating in the yard._

I knew it was immature to think that, but wouldn't you be disgusted if a pair of strangers had just fucked each other in the privacy of what was supposed to be a friendly, _private, CLEAN, _backyard that wasn't theirs? I found a net for our non-existent tiny pool leaning against the wall of the house, so I used it to pick up the shirt and undergarment, but I wasn't so lucky with the wrapper. Ugh...

I knew better than to put it in a trash can in the house, so I made my way back into the garage and disposed of it, and I thanked God that it was garbage day. I got rid of the clothes, too. I came back to the yard, spine tingling slightly, but I couldn't place the reason why. Behind the house seemed to close in on itself, feeling too suffocating and tight for me to bear, and I felt some need to get out of there. I didn't feel like I was in control of my movements, like my feet had suddenly had a mind of its own, wandering around with me balancing on them to God knows where. I was mentally outside of my own body, leaving it to do whatever it intended. Hell, I wasn't even aware enough to realize that I had meandered to the street and was walking down it...in my bare feet and the clothes I had fallen asleep in.

If I could honestly describe how I was feeling, the immediate picture I would have in mind would be a dog being dragged by its owner while on its leash. I briefly thought to go back to the house, but the tug on my metaphorical leash was way stronger than what my considerations were at the moment. I wanted to _go _somewhere, but I had no clue where, why, and _what _exactly I was going to do there. I just wanted to relax and take the backseat to whatever it was that was getting me to walk out of the house and onto streets that were more dangerous than drunk and stoned frat boys at Zoey's party.

I had barely even acknowledged I was approaching a house that was in pretty good shape on the outside, but looked like it was void of any inhabitants...and I was going in through the side into the backyard with the idea I wanted something from there. I found myself looking over two random lawn chairs, and a broken glass door that piqued my curiousity as to how and why it was broken from where I stood. I noticed the pool, too, the kind that would be waist-deep for most people and only used to take a quick dip in to beat the Vegas climate.

My heavy-lidded gaze was suddenly wide open, and I felt the urge to go near the pool, to touch the water. I moved slowly to it, crouching down at the edge to look at whatever I was searching for.

_Look, Jocelyn. Look at the bottom_.

My sight was settled at the bottom of the pool, but I knew I shouldn't see anything because of the darkness outside. But I did. I saw what looked like to be a cross with some gemstones in it...

_Get it, darling. Get the cross for me. _

I felt something like a faint sensation of a hand brush my arm gently, up to my shouder, and then to my back, between my shoulder blades. I sat now on the edge of the pool, dipping my feet into what felt like ice until up to my knees were submerged.

_That's my girl. _

_What am I doing? _I thought, but I felt like I wanted to satisfy whatever was making me do this, like it was important to me. I tensed, aware that I wasn't being rational at the moment. Was I cracking at something that I truly thought didn't bother me? Was it the lack of sleep?

_Don't worry, _said the imaginary urge, _just do it. _

I felt calm at what I thought I was hearing, but it felt like a haze was being put over my thoughts. Get the cross. Get in the pool and _get the cross. _I slipped into the pool gently, the cold water reaching up to my ribcage...if it weren't for what felt like a drunken stupor, I might have actually jumped out and ran into the house.

I hesitated. Was I completely out of my mind?

"_Get it, Jocelyn. You want to please me, don't you?" _A voice had breathed softly in my ear, barely audible to me, but the effect was the same.

"Yes," I murmured quietly. My eyelids were almost closed, almost out of comfort at the voice, but I felt too eerily relaxed to be rational in a pool.

I sank into the water, pushing myself downward to the floor, and felt around the bottom until my hand had enclosed over the object. So many pictures flashed through my head: a clueless, but amusing boy who had run through the house that was abandoned out of fear; of him jumping from the roof to land awkwardly and painfully on his foot; approaching him in the pool, watching him pull out the cross and hold onto it like a lifeline...biting into the boy, who pushed and shoved uselessly against my chest while my teeth were in his neck, finally going limp.

The images were so sudden I had accidentally swallowed water, and I shot up to the surface, coughing and gasping at the mistake I had made in making an involuntary sharp intake of breath. I clutched at the cross that I held in my hands, and I made my way out of the pool. My legs felt weak as I made a few steps away from the thing, collapsing onto my knees and dropping the religious object onto the grass.

I felt completely awake now, that was for sure. I was soaking wet, I was cold, and I was wondering what in _Hell _had convinced me to go into water and almost try to drown myself-

"You know, you look kind of cute when you're panicked."

_Have I actually gone crazy?_

My eyes pivoted to where the lawn chairs were, and I froze at the sight of what I saw. He was reclining unabashedly and comfortably in a lawn chair, assesing me with cool calmness.

"May I add that I'm grateful you got that cross for me?"

_Holy SHIT. _It was _him. It was that fucking vampire from my dream!_


	8. Had a Nice Swim?

_**Author's Note: Eighth chapter everyone! Hope you enjoy it, I'm in the process of writing chapter nine right now, and I have a special treat (*ahem*, chapter) that will be narrated by our favourite vamp ;P I couldn't resist at least writing in another character's perspective! Please, READ AND REVIEW, leave comments/questions/suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. ENJOY!**_

I shivered violently because of how the breeze was blowing softly over my wet skin, while I just gaped over at the lawn chair. Here the cocky bastard sat infront of me, like just _appearing _out of thin air was the most normal thing you could do. I was...speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. His hair was extremely black, like obsidian, and his eyes were such a shade of brown you would think he was wearing contacts, all contrasting beautifully against his pale skin. His face was perfect, too; eyes that would make you melt, matching the already unfairly attractive colour, along with his nose and lips.

Oh, and did I mention his _lips_? They were the only thing that my eyes would linger on, housing the most perfect, gleaming, whitest teeth I had ever seen.

But during all of my observations, my face was stuck in its terror-stricken expression.

"Don't you remember me?," he asked nonchalantly, "After all, you brought me back, basically _invited me,_ Jocelyn. You _should _recognize me."

My hand unconsciously touched the side of my neck that was bitten in my dream, still staring back at him with wide eyes. His answering grin made my skin crawl uncomfortably, possessing an innocence that hid cold cunning.

"Ahh, you do," he leaned forward, in a predatory way, "I'm glad, Jocelyn. Kind of hard to remember such a bad dream,especially if you're the one unable to run."

I was tensing, readying myself to get up and run even though my legs were feeling very close to jell-o. Ontop of that, I would have to get up off my knees and onto my feet, which would be too much time for him to just get out of the lawn chair and reach me. This mother fucker _was _In my dream, showing me snippets of what was going on before he...died? Was he even actually dead?

I remember my mother used to tell me that sometimes dead spirits could contact you in your dreams (or your subconscious, in general), even if they couldn't manifest physically. But I was eleven at the time; I wanted to believe in Barbie dolls and play houses and princesses, not the supernatural. I wanted to believe that someday my dad would stop hurting my mom, would stop using everyone else as an excuse to make up for what he lacked. I wanted to believe that we would be a happy, normal family. But I was wrong. I believed in what I could physically see and what I could percieve as the truth.

But one thought about what my mother told me about ghosts had popped up in my dull, shock-ridden teenage brain.

"But you can't hurt me here," I blurted, more for reassurance than to him, "You're just a..."

I trailed off at the realization of how ridiculous the words ready to leave my lips were. _A ghost? _Could I even utter the words without feeling like a complete idiot? My mom's superstitions were strong, yes, but did it really make me the same way? I didn't like anything that seemed too freaky to understand, I didn't like the Ouija board...I probably was an in-closet superstitious person, but I would never admit it.

Was it even true that ghosts couldn't touch the living?

"Go ahead, say it."

He appeared in front of me, face so close to mine I jumped, attempting to scuttle away. My arms had been seized roughly by icy cold hands, pulling me closer, uncomfortably so. He kneeled infront of me, and I was still stuck on my knees, no matter how hard I tried to break away and get up. My head was turned away from his face, but the freezing breath hitting my cheek chilled me to my core...and I was _terrified. _He was able to TOUCH me.

After a few breaths and studying my face like some kind of secret was etched into it, he stated, "You're too scared to say it."

He gave me a little shake, but sighed when he saw that I wasn't going to answer.

"Just because I'm a _ghost _doesn't mean I can't touch you, Joce. I left that lovely bitemark on your neck, didn't I?"

He let go of one of my arms, running a finger over the said mark, and smirked like it was the most amusing thing in the whole world. I tried to squirm away, shoving at him, anything to get away. Anything to get away from the icy fingers, the cold breath, the chills that ran up and down my spine, _anything. _But I was pushing through nothing, only swirls of cool air were concentrated there. I mean, my hands went right _through _him!

"Oh, and the party; that was great thinking on your sister's part, I had so much to feed off of instead of just you...not that you weren't good, butI like a change every once in a while, don't you? I had just enough for you to see my face-"

"Let go," I managed to choke out, paralyzed. My heart fluttered dangerously at the increasing terror that threatened to stop my heart. The man cocked his head with a smile at my boldness, and I could tell he was genuinely amused by me, as a predator would when they humored the prey when they fought back.

He lowered his mouth to below my ear, sighing, "Hmm...I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon, darling."

I stiffened at how his lips brushed like a feather over that spot, sending a shudder through my already shaking body. My breathing was shaky, uncontrolled. My nerves were on fire. I wanted to scream, to tell him to back the fuck up, but I couldn't. My voice was lost, trapped in my throat in a painful lump, and my vocal chords seemed to have had knotted up. I didn't even realize he had been stroking my neck with his thumb slowly while he had been breathing down it.

And oddly, I found myself...almost wanting _more._

_But I have to get away from him!_

"Jocelyn? What are you doing here?"

I felt a quick peck on the spot where the guy's lips had been brushing over, and the icy hands and the man had disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared, resulting in my flying onto my back at the last tug I had attempted to get away. I groaned at the pain I inflicted on it. _Fuck. _

Sitting up quickly and grabbing the cross with shaking fingers was a challenge for me, but the compulsion to keep the damn object and bring it with me was even worse than trying to resist. I couldn't get onto my feet with the severe shaking that took the rest of my body, too, so all I could do was just sit there like a pathetic duck. I stuffed the cross into the pocket of my pants, feeling my face flush at the sight of one of my neighbours.

It was Charley, giving me a look that would make every very concerned mother in this universe proud.

_*Charley's POV*_

I didn't know what made me do it, but I had woken up at least around four-thirty or five in the morning. I was wide awake, too. I admit I had developed weird sleeping patterns ever since Jerry had come into the neighbourhood, but I couldn't help it much. I tried going to bed early, going extremely late, even staying awake for a few days, but I had yet to try any drugs to help me stay asleep throughout the night. Whatever I tried never worked. I never told my mom that I had become a bit of an insomniac, but I assumed she knew. She always gave me a concerned, but knowing look every time I told her I was fine, but she would never press the issue. She only would give me a small, almost sad smile, and say, "Okay, Charley."

I had been in my pyjama pants, completely shirtless, finally deciding to throw the sheets off me and swinging my legs off the bed. I rubbed my eyes, wishing I could sleep a little more easily and comfortably like I used to, before Jerry had moved in.

My stomach clenched suddenly, my heart beating a little too fast, and an unsettling feeling took its place among my many sleepy thoughts. Something felt very off-kilter, but not with me. I got up to stretch my legs, looked out the window briefly, but I looked back out for a second time, at the street from an angle, and was highly confused by what I was seeing.

Jocelyn was walking through the empty streets, fully dressed, with bare feet, but it seemed like she was moving with some kind of...dead pace, I guess. Her movements were languid and lazy, but she was definitely going somewhere. Did she have worse sleeping habits than I had? I honestly hoped that she would wake up and realize that she wasn't at home, sleeping like most teens would before going to school. I had overheard my mom and Mrs. Harris (Joce's mom) talking to each other outside the other day, and it seemed as if they had become fast friends like Amy and I had with Jocelyn.

_"Well...my hus...I mean, ex-husband, he had a temper..." _I vaguely remembered the conversation I had overheard from the living room between them, but maybe Joce's dad wasn't exactly 'father of the year' to her or Zoey. Maybe he was bad enough where poor Jocelyn had started to sleep walk or something...my dad leaving us was nothing compared to what my neighbour may have gone through. I remember when I had seen her wear a shirt that exposed her upper back was full of smaller, almost invisible scars that hardly anyone would notice if they didn't basically study her skin closely. Ontop of that, Jocelyn seemed sad sometimes, but I would never see it on her face. I coud _sense _it off her, and she tensed every time someone had patted her shoulders or back, even with her mother...I think it was only Zoey that could touch her without making Joce uncomfortable.

I yanked a shirt on, getting out of my room, running down the stairs clumsily, and out of the house, but not before grabbing my keys. I jogged lightly to catch the last glimpse of Jocelyn before she had turned the corner onto another street...

I kind of faltered for a moment when I thought I saw an outline of a shadow, that was clearly not hers, behind her as she passed a streetlamp on the corner, but the shape seemed too familiar. It walked like-I must be going fucking crazy-_Jerry. _Slow, deliberate steps, following my neighbour, and it looked like a hand was resting between her shoulder blades. But he-_it-_had gone away like a wisp of smoke. Maybe I was still paranoid and I still saw what my conscience continued to fear. Jerry was _dead. _I shouldn't be worried, he couldn't harm anyone, and I saw him turn to ash.

_I must be a paranoid schizo or something._

I slowed down to a fast walk when I followed Jocelyn to a street that had a lot of abandoned houses, but I had lost sight of her when I turned the next corner. How many streets had we gone through? A block? More? I slowed down a bit more, wandering around the quiet street. Boy, I didn't think Jocelyn had gotten to know the neighbourhood _that _well, in four or five days especially, but maybe she had done so when she and her family had investigated the neighbourhood during the months before they moved into the house. I walked slowly down the street, straining for any sounds that may give Jocelyn away, but it was dead silent in the humid, Vegas night. I felt my heart speed up a little. Where was my neighbour?

I heard a soft slushing sound from what I assumed was a pool, and I turned towards the source. It was on the other side of the street from where I had turned on to follow after Jocelyn, but I wasn't sure if it was just a neighbour that just liked a little night swim. I couldn't be sure.

My legs had responded though, and I moved cautiously to the group of houses down the other end of the street where I had lost Jocelyn, and waited for more sounds.

"_Charlie..."_

Goosebumps immediately shot to life when I heard my name being called, and whipped around to look behind me. I heard incoherent whispers fill my ears, almost swirling around me, but I tried to shake it off. My head felt a little fuzzy, my hearing dulled, and I didn't know why, but the whispering intensified and I still couldn't make it out. I felt the urge to run, to scream, but I had to find Jocelyn first. I was approaching the side of a house with a gate, and just when I was about to open it, I gasped.

My forearm had started to bleed with a seemingly fresh cut, dripping onto the ground in fat drops. When had I gotten cut? And why didn't I feel it? I spent a few moments thinking about it-I hadn't gone anywhere near a sharp object, and I _definitely _wasn't the type to cut. No Butterfly Project for me.

"Let go." I heard Jocelyn's strained voice gasp.

I ignored the bleeding and refocused my thoughts to my neighbour.

I pushed into the backyard, and blurted, "Jocelyn? What are you doing here?"

She was on her back, but I could tell something wasn't right. Jocelyn sat up quickly though, and I couldn't help but feel worried that she was hurt. What _was _she doing here?

"Hey, Charlie," she replied.

"Are you alright, Joce?"

"I think so..."

I made my way over to her and helped her up, she was completely wet and shaking like a leaf.

"What are you doing out here? Aren't you going to school? And why are you wet?"

_*Jocelyn's POV*_

I couldn't give an answer right away to all of Charley's questions, my mind was reeling with the encounter I had with that vampire/ghost thing. Plus, I didn't remember the way home, I had wandered off in some kind of a stupor to this backyard and managed to almost to drown myself. What _was _I doing out here? Simple. I was getting a cross for the very thing that should be despising it, so why did he want it in the first place? As for school, I wasn't sure, but I was supposed to go anyway and get an education and make mommy proud. And for being wet? That was pretty self-explanatory. There was a pool, and me. Do the math, Charley. Obviously, I didn't tell him that, so I gave him the most honest answer I could without insulting him.

"I don't remember, Charley. I was at home, sleeping, and then I find myself here almost drowning in a pool and..."

I cut myself off before I said anything about the man, I was absolutely sure Charley would think I was insane. I mean, no one really believed in ghosts anyway, so who _would _listen to me without sending me to the psych ward? Would he come haunt me there, too? I hoped this was an isolated incident, but my gut had clenched at the hopeful thought that had made its way through.

"And...?" Charley asked, eyebrows raised. He reminded me of my mother at the moment, the way she would raise her brows when she was concerned, her forehead creasing just like Charley's was doing now. The only difference was that my mother's voice would go an octave higher if she were really panicked when my safety and health were at risk.

"I guess I was sleep walking," I said after a beat, and I looked at my shoes. I felt my cheeks heat up a little, but I didn't know why I was flushing. People had sleeping disorders everyday; my apparent sleeping _disorder _was a ghost waking me up in the middle of the night and scaring the shit out of me. And maybe almost being aroused while terrified-that must've been why I felt like a human lightbulb. One for fucked up vampire dream, zero for me. At least I wasn't anywhere close to even with Zoey for something similar to a sexual experience.

"That explains why you don't know where you are," he laughed," Let's get you home."

He put a hand between my shoulder blades, guiding me through the backyard out to the side of the house, and I tensed. Why did that feel so familiar?

"Is something wrong?" Charley had noticed my reaction, taking his hand away.

"Oh no, it's nothing. I guess I'm still cold."

"Well, a better reason to get you home faster, then." he replied, smiling.

We had walkd out onto the street, but I still had no idea where I was, so I followed my neighbour closely even though I was right beside him. _I wandered out this far?_ I thought, _I don't even recognize anything on this street. _

Charley and I walked in a comfortable silence, but I felt uneasy at the growing feeling that we were being watched and followed as well. I ignored it, concentrating on something that would distract me from the tension.

"What happened to your arm?"

Charley gave a surprised look my way, and glanced at the limb quickly. "Oh, this? It was an accident when I was trying to find you...I kind of followed you when I noticed you were walking away from your house."

"Oh. You're such a creeper, Brewster."

"What can I say? It's my favourite past time, Joce," and he grinned his boyish grin that made me smile back.

"Sure, Charley."

Even though the conversation was light and took my mind off the encounter with the man, I still couldn't get off of the topic entirely. I was scared shitless, and I was had some intuition that told me that it wasn't going to be a one-time thing.

I wished I had realized how much fucked up shit I was going to be in for later.


	9. When I First Saw You

_**Author's Note: I finally finished this chapter! This is supposed to be narrated by our fave vampy Jerry and his view on what has happened so far in the story, so please let me know what you think, and if you would like more chapters narrated by him. I started writing this chapter in the middle of working on the previous one, and I honestly could not put it off or the notion would have escaped my teenaged brain. It may be a little longer than I usually write, but hey, I was under the pull of inspration. So, please READ AND REVIEW, and leave questions/comments/suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM via reviews or private messaging :) As always, enjoy the chapter!**_

I remember when I first saw you, Jocelyn. Your mother had come by the house multiple times with the realtor beforehand, suspicious of the low price of the house, but kept pushing to have it inspected. She only had the upstairs and main floor looked at, but the basement was completely sealed off, because she didn't want you or your sister getting hurt. She didn't discover the secret hallway behind the closet, in which it was to be your future room. And when I saw you, I knew something was different, compared to all the others who had looked into the house. You seemed...special.

Of course, I was just a lingering spirit, but I felt heat course through my dead veins every time I set my eyes on you. The very air seemed to zing with an energy that I could only describe as mesmerizing when you walked into the house. You had walked into what was my bedroom, assessing it with your small, amber-brown eyes that possessed some form of otherwordly clarity. Your face was child-like in its qualites, with your small innocent eyes, small nose, and pouty bottom lip, all fitting perfectly with what you wanted to show to the world, but what I saw was different. I saw a child that wanted to be loved, accepted, but held a wild beast behind the facade. You could have been cold, cunning, even dangerous, but you decided to push it all back and replace it with the sickening sympathetic warmth that you humans seem to desire so strongly. To me, you wanted to fit into a world that would have never completely accepted your soft, caring side. You would have been thought of as weak, fragile, but I know you're far from that.

I could see the very faint scars on your back and arms the day you walked into the house, but vampires had superb vision anyway, dead or alive, and your skin may have looked flawless to any other person. I wanted to touch those scars, explore them, but every attempt I made at it made the tiny space between your skin and my fingers charge with unnatural electricity, but I seemed to have welcomed the strange sensation every time. You _were _special, and I knew exactly right then and there I wanted to know you more. So, I had followed you around the house a little bit before you had to go to school, watching how you walked, how you addressed your mother, you sister, everything. I skipped out on watching you shower, though, every single day. I still had some form of respect for women and girls, a habit I had when I was human.

Figures that a family like yours would be somewhere from the Medditeranian, considering my breed. And you seemed to follow the traditions there, too. Obey your parents, respect your elders, the like, but I noticed your father hadn't come with you at all. Absolutely no "man of the house." I couldn't smell the scent of neglect and abandonment I'm sure you would have given off, but that was because when you're truly dead, you can't smell, taste, or feel. I coudn't _smell_ you, I couldn't _taste _you, and I couldn't _touch_ you, but the energy you had was making me go insane with wanting. If I were still the undead vampire I was, I would have taken you away a long time ago. Maybe I would have had a little fun with you (after all, I still am the stuff nightmares are made of) but you would have ended up being my food and then being _mine. _And you would make a very talented vampire, too. But the fact I could walk right through you and be practically non-existent had all stopped when your sister had pulled the Ouija board out. It was my door to this physical world where I had enjoyed the blood I had shed and the new children I had made.

Where I could get some _revenge. _

The board had made me feel excited, but I was apprehensive, also, about the whole thing. Would I disappear into nothingness? Appear in the physical world, just to be thrown back into the spirit world where I couldn't have the things I so badly wanted? I had noticed that your shoulders had hunched at the board, as if you could feel what I was feeling, and you were trembling slightly at how you seemed to realize it wasn't normal to feel excitement when you were clearly experiencing anxiety. I had felt a little more solid, a little closer to having my old physical body, and my fingers still seemed to pass through you still, but it was as if the supernatural object had granted me a little more substance in your world. And the other friends you had over-I didn't care much for their names-and you and your sister had set the damned object up in my old living room, where I used to watch T.V. to pass through the day when I wasn't feeding.

I loved watching you, like I would with my prey when they could sense that the end was coming. Your eyebrows had knitted together in their cute way, your forefinger and thumb pinching at your bottom lip pensively when you watched the other girls chitter chatter about uninteresting things. I had to admit, I found you amusing when you were curled into yourself, looking everywhere, even at the ugly painting your mother had put on the wall. You would bite your lip when the girls all had their hands on the marker, expecting me to move it and prove to them the board worked. Luckily, the girls decided to play a prank on the gullible one, but it seemed to ease the tension I could see that was taking set in your muscles. I remember when your sister and her friends had started to rip into you when you said that the board wasn't a good idea, and you were right. I had fun with the marker, making it spin and then land on the first letter of my name. I felt stronger, too. I was curious as to if I could touch you, and me running a sharp nail across your neck made me feel good. That board had just solidified my place in the physical side of the world, and the blood I had brought to my lips didn't have a taste, like I expected, but it was a baby step, nonetheless.

The wanting had intensified as soon as I could lay my hands on you, I needed some form of sustenance in order to keep myself from fading back into the measly ghost I had become in death.

I could tell that your dad must have been a scumbag, because when Zoey had mentioned him to you, you were seething with anger, and it was _intoxicating_, aside from the secret anxiety that was hiding underneath. Rage and fear from you were the things that had made me want to take you right then, but the limitations of being a ghost was in my way, I couldn't have the blood pumping through you that I desired to my very core. Of course, I wasn't aware of it at the time, my fangs had slipped from my gums, and I decided I wanted to tease and scare you a bit just to see you squirm-it made you taste better. So I again followed you around the house while you did the mundane task of cleaning, and when your heart was at its fastest, I decided to strike. It was like old times when I was alive; you were caught, terrified, unable to make any noise aside from the choked breathing you were struggling with, and I bit. I realized that instead of having your blood, I was swallowing some of your essence that you carried within you.

And honestly, it felt like I was swallowing the best source of life from someone. The effect was amazing-my veins had burned pleasurably, giving me the best feeling of tingling euphoria that I had never wanted to stop. I managed to, but you were unconscious and I dragged you upstairs with my poor strength and made it look like you had fallen asleep. No one suspected a thing, even your sister, but I guess she wasn't as _special _as you were, Jocelyn. I kept an eye on you all night, making sure you were still alive, or you dying would have brought up too many questions and too many secrets that would eventually lead to someone bringing in a priest or leaving the house completely. Luckily, you were. I stayed there, stroking you face, your hair, admiring your perseverance after an attack I was certain would have resulted in you dying. But you needed to rest and recuperate, so after your sister had so gently woken you up, I had helped you relax enough to resume your slumber by mimicking your sister rubbing your back. Maybe it didn't help, since you looked like death when you had woken up, but at least you weren't comatose, my little food source.

When you got up to take your daily shower, I couldn't help but _taste _the sadness and anger and fear you felt from whatever you were thinking about while you were washing yourself. I couldn't believe it, but the cocktail of sweet, sour and tangy had all mixed on my tongue and I had to check it out for myself whether I was imagining what I thought I was tasting. It was true, though; the flavours just got stronger the closer I approached the shower, but stopped so suddenly when you had picked up on my presence. I got out of sight just in time, and I left you alone while you dried and changed. That was when I had caught your scent, almost completely disguised by the cheap-smelling body wash and shampoo you had used, and I couldn't resist the urge to pick up a section of hair and sniff it.

You, obviously, had felt and heard me, and you had whipped around to see what had seized your hair. Jocelyn, you were looking in my direction, but you couldn't see me for the life of you. You had a gut feeling in you, I knew, just because I could taste the sweetness of your anxiety, the addictive part of your hidden fear. Truthfully, I took another whiff of you when you turned back to leave.

You smelled so heavenly.

It was too bad that I thought you were so precious at night I didn't play with you, so I decided to wait for the right time, and I played with your sister instead. She didn't seem to mind; she writhed under my hands like any woman would with me, but I didn't go all the way, if it would make you feel any better. I'm sorry to say, but it seemed as if your sister had had this experience before with other guys, but probably never from the ghost of a vampire. You, on the other hand, I could tell that you still possessed your virtue, which only adding to my wanting. It was apparent when your sister brought up what she felt that night at the table, and you just got up and left for school on the second day you were here, so I was alone with her again since I couldn't quite leave the house. I didn't mind; she was home all day, just for me to continue part two of playtime. And I did, almost every night.

You see, during this whole time I was thinking of a plan to come back to the world of the living, to come back for you, but it took a while to remember what exactly I needed to do so. It's difficult to recall the small details of you life when you've died so quickly and painfully. I knew I needed _you_, but I also needed other things for my plan that would require some important objects. I bet Peter Vincent didn't know I had learned a few tricks in the past four hundred years, and his vampire books weren't completely accurate in terms of what I can do. So Jocelyn, you were kind of like the proverbial lifeline for me until then. I must admit, I had grown fond of you in the short time that you had been living here, and I had discovered that I could enter your dreams as well.

The part I didn't know about was that you would be seeing some of my memories and consequently, some of the others' memories because I had turned them and they were linked to me. I had seen a few of yours, too. What a broken, broken thing you are, Jocelyn. The scars on your back from your dad shoving you into the mirror when you were practically a baby? Shame. And then there were all the past bruises you still remember as clear as day from being hit and grabbed and beaten when you tried to protect your mother and sister. It was a disappoinment, really-I wanted to smell the neglect on you, the pain, the constant anxiety, and I'm sure I would have choked on the intensity of it. But I could only smell _you. _The fear you felt some days would taste so sweet to me, so tempting, but I couldn't quite have you yet, but I would, in a matter of time. You were just out of my reach.

That was until your sister decided to throw the party that gave me enough to push me further into being closer to you. I knew you were hiding in your room while the party went on, and I didn't blame you; there were some very high and drunk shady individuals there, despite being Zoey's friends. I didn't know if she even _invited _them in the first place, she was a bit tipsy herself. Beer pong was one of the perks; people would fall over from drinking so much, but it was actually me taking a little of their life source from them. I didn't take a lot from each individual, just enough to feel that euphoria in the slightest, and then I would move on to the next person. It was a buffet for me down there, Joce, but none of them tasted as good as you did. In truth, none of them compared to you, but it was a variety in prey, regardless. I wonder what your blood would taste like...probably better than Amy's when I first drank from her.

When I had gone into your room-_our room_-after the party had died down, you were fast asleep, you could barely keep your eyes open lately from me having little sips while you would rest, especially after the dream I had shared with you. I needed you to recover from that, so the guests downstairs were the perfect distraction for my hunger. You looked peaceful, as always, blond hair strewn everywhere on your pillow and the blanket only covering up to your waist. Your shirt had ridden up some, but not much, and you were very innocent-looking at the moment. I wanted to turn you, rid you of the innocence, become what I was and not the flushed, pink-lipped girl that you were. You were going to be _mine, _a deadly beast in all its beauty.

But in order to do that, I needed to be alive.

I wanted another taste of you, just a tiny sip, but my plan for you had made me think differently. I let out a small breath below your ear when it had dawned on me that the time to kick things in motion was _now._ Now that I had gained some more strength, I could use a little more of my influence, and you wouldn't have been able to resist. I watched as your lids opened quickly, brown eyes still cloudy from grogginess, but you got up anyway and had brushed your teeth to start another mundane task of cleaning. Which lasted for about two hours or so, but you managed to get the place clean enough so that it was as if there was no party. I wanted to see how strong of a hold I had on you and I wanted you to go where the first and closest object I needed was. You reacted like I thought you would, your eyes had glazed a little, no longer sleepy though, and you followed my every whim to the house where I had turned Charley's friend, Ed. I followed you, only able to go where you would walk, but with the limitation that it had to be a significant place for me in order to go there...which meant I wasn't strong enough to follow you somewhere I had never been, like your school. As long as you were within my presence until I had gained a little more strength, I was content to just have you around as a source of survival.

"_Get it, darling. Get the cross for me,_" was one of the many things I had whispered into your ear at the pool's edge, and I could feel that your will was melting at my enticing. You slipped into the water willingly, under my hypnosis, and you only had a minute's hesitation until I had calmed your fears. I knew you could sense I was around, even if you had no idea it was me, but you just obeyed me as if I had already sired you. I watched as your head sunk into the water, pushing yourself to the bottom to get the hateful object for me. I decided that you would come back up, seeing that you humans need air, so I had taken a seat to wait for you in one of the lawn chairs that held such fond memories for me and Ed.

A minute passed, and I felt a flick of worry that you had drowned, because it would have been disappointing (and an inconvenience) if I hadn't had anyone to be my hands to collect what I needed in order come back to life. It may have been easy to find another person willing to do things for me, but, as I said, I had grown fond of you and wanted you as a clan member. You would be extremely useful to me, and I still craved the chance to have a taste of your liquid hot life source in you. And then you had shot up from the water, sputtering and coughing and gasping for air after snapping out of the hypnotism, I guess. You swallowed water, but you had managed to pull yourself out of the pool, take a few steps, and drop to your knees while you hunched over and took in large gulps of air. The cross was largely forgotten, but you still felt my need for you to hold onto it, and you wanted to make me happy.

I liked scaring you, the fear leaving that sweet taste on my tongue that I absolutely loved, like another buffet. It was delicious, and your horror at the fact I could touch you but you couldn't touch me was...I guess, a turn on, if you were any other female, but I was attracted to you like a moth to a flame. You were my original connection to this world, and now I could smell you, feel you, and also sort of taste you, but it wasn't the kind of taste I preferred. Your frantic, fluttering heart beat reminded me what it was like when I was alive, and I wanted another sniff of you, some form of your blood in my mouth even more.

I noticed the way you shuddered with some unwilling longing for me, but it was a vampire's natural effect on its victims to draw that out. We were supposed to be attractive in every way, from the way we looked to the way we acted and even our smell was to lure you. It was just how vampires were. _We _were on the top of the food chain, not you snivelling little creatures that depended on weapons and religion and technology to protect you. Humans were _weak, _and you being one was enough to get my non-existent blood pumping with desire to change you. I could see the possibilities; the power you could hold, the senses you could have, the deadly beauty you could possess and lead prey right into their deaths.

Oh, and Charley. I knew he was following you, too, but I had a little bit of fun to distract him before he had found you and I together. My, had he grown-no longer the naive teenager, but knowledgable and having nightmares of me. And who could blame him? I wanted to strike fear into the hearts of my prey, it made the hunt better.

I wanted to laugh when I saw your cheeks flush while you explained to Charley about how you had gotten into the backyard I was so fond of. I knew you wouldn't tell anything about me, because I could taste something close to bitter when your embarassment had peaked. I also knew that you felt it since I had somewhat brought your teen hormones to the surface in the moment of terror you felt. It was extremely amusing. You had the sense to feel that I was following you and Charley back to your home, and you basically ignored it, but your secret anxiety gave you away to me, regardless, and you noticed what I considered revenge art on your neighbour's arm.

_Hey, Charley, _you had asked after he dodged the explanation for the cut, _the previous owner of the house I live in was named Jerry, right? _

I was touched you remembered my name so suddenly.

_Yeah. _

_What was he like...in terms of neighbourly stuff? Crazy? Weird?_

_Uhhh...well, he wasn't a _great _neighbour, if that's what you mean. He was a bit of a..._

How cute, Jocelyn. You were curious about me, too.

_...opportunist._

And so you just learned what I was "like" and what my physical appearance was, and you didn't press for further details, even though I could sense Charley wanted to tell you I was a vampire since he thought you didn't know. It was even cuter when you shut down the topic when Charley had asked you why you wanted to know. _Oh, no reason, _you had replied, and switched the topic to something more familiar between you two; your school. After a minute, you had reached an awkward silence until Charley had walked you back all the way to your house. Of course, I had followed you back into the house, and I had a plan for my next few appearances as I watched, with you, Charley going back to his home.

You had gone straight to your room and flopped onto the bed, but not before shoving the cross into a drawer in your night table beside your bed, and changing out of the uncomfortable wet clothes into warm pyjamas. You were alseep pretty fast.

I took you into my arms with your head laying on my chest, holding you tight, and stroking your hair while I thought of what I wanted to do with you in order to come back. You were breathing slowly, peaceful like the way you were before, and you had snuggled yourself closer to me, because you were having another nightmare of your father. You had such daddy issues, Jocelyn, but I guess it was fairly common now in this day and age for a child to have a problem with at least _one _of their parents. You clutched at my shirt feebly as your brows furrowed at whatever you were dreaming about, and maybe I would come visit your subconscious sometime later, but right now, I liked having you so dependent on me. All I had to do to calm you was stroke your cheek, and I couldn't help but smirk a little at your fragility.

Wait till you saw what a _real _nightmare was, Jocelyn. Then you would become the nightmare.


	10. (In)Security

_I bawled as I watched my mother and father fight each other; my mom was trying to help us, while Dad was trying to beat the crap Zoey and I. He was a very burly man, with his wide shoudlers, muscled arms, and a walk that reminded me of a pitbull whenever I thought back to him. His eyes always seemed to be in a squinty, angry position, and the blueness of his eyes had such a burning electricity in them it would make anyone fall to their knees in surrender. The smell of alcohol and cocaine and pot all mixed together in the air sickeningly, making me feel so nauseated whenever it hit my nostrils, and I felt so helpless as my mom was trying to distract my father from going after me. _

_"Hank! Your problem is with _me, _not your daughter! She's YOUR child!" _

_"SHUT UP, YOU WHORE!"_

_I was shaking so badly, I had taken off to hide in the closet of my mother's room, where a large mirror was across from the bed she had started to sleep in ever since my father had developed some kind notion that I wasn't his child. It started like this when I was three years old; Dad started drinking and abusing drugs that fucked up his mind, and he took out his aggression on whoever was weakest and most convenient. My crying surely didn't help the situation when my mother was trying to keep me safe, I would scream so loudly, Dad would just want to hit me to keep me quiet, and all the while this happened, Zoey would be at school and completely ignorant of the situation that was going on at the same time. In this nightmare, I was back to my four-year-old self, and I had reverted to being terrified and wishing that it would all stop._

_I squished myself into the small corner of the closet, able to hide between my mother's clothes because of my being a tiny tike, and hoped he would just leave the house. Tears stained my face, sniffling like wisps of smoke compared to my parents' yelling in terms of volume. _

_"HANK! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW! STOP HURTING YOUR CHILDREN, YOU COWARD!"_

_I could hear my mom's voice cracking desperately to keep Dad away from going upstairs to where I was. _

_"I AM _NOT _A COWARD, MILA! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER MARRIED A BITCH LIKE YOU WHO SLEEPS WITH EVERYONE THEY COME INTO CONTACT WITH!" _

_"I'VE BEEN FAITHFUL TO YOU, HANK! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S BEEN CHEATING!"_

_A lot of screaming I couldn't make out into words had followed, and I heard some form of a struggle, and then a thud with a startled sound coming from my mother. I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees. He was coming for me! The panic was suffocating as I heard his heavy work boots hit the floor as he was getting closer to Mom's room, and it was all I could do to keep still and quiet and hope that he wouldn't find me. Oh, why was I submitted to this torture at such a young age? Why did Mom have children with him when he was such a bad person who didn't give a fuck as long as he got his high? How could she stay with him when he had hurt her so badly, had put his children in danger without a second thought? He was so far gone, but my mother couldn't, wouldn't, see that he was a monster now and not a man. I shrank further into my corner, praying I was invisible, that he wouldn't find me. _

_"Where are you, you little skank?" _

_I could smell the alcohol as he had stomped into Mom's room, coming to the closet, closer to me, his victim. I closed my eyes tight and braced myself. I wanted to die, to escape, but the game of Life seemed to have it in for me. Please, God, please keep me safe, I would silently pray to myself when it got like this. _

_"There you are." _

_Hank, my father, had dragged me out of the closet, swinging me around to see my wet face. _

_"Daddy, stop! Don't hurt Mommy or me!" _

_"Shut up!" _

_It might have been a shove, but to a toddler, it was equal to being thrown across the room. I guess from where we were standing, and my back to the mirror, I had collided with it and almost passed out from all the pain with the glass cutting into my back. I felt something clamp around my throat, and I couldn't breathe. _

_"Mommy!" I managed to gasp, and I could feel my face turning colour from the lack of air. _

_"MOMMY!"_

_I saw a red liquid all over the floor, and I couldn't understand what it was, but I was seeing red, too. Then stars, and finally complete darkness. _

I snapped my eyes open to an empty room, looking straight at the mirror across from my own bed. Was that why I put the mirror there? To remind me of something? To _remind _me what had happened so often when we were living with Dad? I still felt like his hand was around my throat and squeezing the life out of me, squeezing my security away. My chest felt heavy, my heart seemed to have had difficulty pumping even though I could clearly hear the pounding from it rocking my eardrums. I slid out of bed slowly, walking to the mirror to stand infront of it. It was a large oval shape, with Celtic patterns of dogs and other animals chasing one another in an endless circle. I traced my fingers over something that looked like a rat with random wings, letting them trail over the intricate knotting and designs that never came to an end. I eyed the small trinkets I had around my room from the reflection; a finished, wooden jewelry box my grandfather from Croatia had created for me that also played music when wound up and opened. Picture frames with pictures of my Mom, Zoey and I without my father with fake smiles and dead eyes after leaving him were all around.

I felt my chest constrict painfully and my throat tighten from the sudden flashback to my dream, and I needed air. The walls seemed to move in on me, collapse like how you would see a piece of paper shrivel up when it was lit with fire. I was alone in the house; Mom was doing a night shift, and Zoey was at college. I walked quickly out of my room and practically ran for the bathroom, slamming the door and yanking the window open. I sank to the floor, weakness taking my legs, dizzy and disoriented from not getting enough oxygen.

I hiccuped at an attempt to gasp air into my lungs, but the imaginary weight on my chest got worse, as if someone were sitting on it and they were just waiting for me to pass out or die.

_Oh God, _I thought, _What if I actually do pass out and Mom comes home to find me dead? What would Zoey do when she receives the news? _

I couldn't, just COULDN'T, start being weak now. I had come too far to find some form of normalcy in my life, and I wasn't going to allow some fucked up memory to get in the way of that. I would _not _turn back, I would _not _be a victim. I was going to survive no matter what.

But my current anxiety attack was saying otherwise to my inner mantra. I wanted to be strong and fearless like the superheroes you would see in the movies, who could scale walls and leap over buildings and beat the snot out of every living criminal. I wanted to be brave like them. The only problem was that I had no super powers or special abilities or talents that would protect me. Hell, I didn't even think there was a superpower that could save me from myself. I was my own nightmare when it came to my memories.

I looked around the small bathroom while I tried to calm my breathing, the blue shower curtains and plain white tiles a little comforting at the moment. I tried to think of things that were calming-still lake water, untouched snow after it just fell, a soft, cool breeze over a field. Anything.

The thought of a cool breeze made my skin prickle, my hair standing on end as if someone had rubbed a balloon all over my arms and the back of my neck. It was actually kind of cool in here all of a sudden, and I had no idea why. My hands went from cold and sweaty to numb, my heart slowing unexpectedly from its rapid beat.

_I need to go to my room. _

It was the first thought that crossed my mind when I noticed the temperature change, and I got up without even realizing that I had done so. My brain seemed disconnected from the rest of my body, and the dark walls of the inside of my house felt like they were whispering.

_Jocelyn. _

_Yes? _I thought, padding slowly along the hallway.

My feet didn't feel like they were touching anything-the wooden floor didn't have that unwelcome coolness that would normally greet you when you least wanted it getting out of bed.

_Come here. I want you..._

My heart seemed to slow, but beat harder at the same time. Was that weird?

_...to do something for me._

No, I wanted to say, I won't do it.

But like the time at the pool, I felt an urge to please the voice. And _God_, I wanted to please it.

*_Charley's POV*_

"Charley? What's going on in that head of yours?"

I looked up at Amy, whose eyes were studying my face like a scientist would at a dissected cadaver. She pinched her chin, brows furrowed, and her eyes were large pools of blue that only showed the surface of her emotions. How did I even start explaining to her about what I saw when I was following Jocelyn? She had been traumatized once, and I didn't want her to relive the experience that she had when the fucking vampire had basically violated her and turned her. For God's sake, she was already suffering a few anxiety problems when it came to having to be in the dark-and honestly, it wasn't a childhood fear anymore. The monsters under the bed, in the closet, in the _neighbourhood, _was completely, un-refutably real.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just some school stuff."

"Charley," she said.

See, when you're dating, you know that a girl will say just one word and it will have a whole one-sided conversation behind it. And, like most guys, you never pick up on the hidden message.

But I certainly did.

"What?"

"You're hiding something from me again, Charley. Like that other time."

That "other time" she was referring to was the one topic we could never bring up to each other, just because it was like a constant grey cloud over everything. I couldn't bring up the memories now-after the incident with Jerry, we seperated briefly to figure our own shit out, and we had gotten back together, before Jocelyn and her family moved in. I just had no way to think of as to how to break the news to her about what I thought I saw without hurting her security. I kept thinking of a puppet's strings being pulled in all different directions: I had to help Jocelyn if what I saw was real, but I also had to keep Amy feeling safe and happy (as well as my mom). Peter wouldn't be rejoicing at the news either. _At all. _

And Peter was still grieving his lost love Ginger, even though he would never show it to either one of us. It was complicated; we all moved on, but now someone that Amy and I had grown fond of was now dealing with the same problem that we already faced. I was just worried that Jocelyn would get it worse-she was living in Jerry's house, after all.

There was no way I could word what I was about to say, even if I spent days trying to put it delicately.

"I think that Jerry isn't completely dead," I finally managed.

Amy's face was blank, unreadable, for what felt like an eternity. Her eyes would go watery, then clear, then watery again, as if she was trying not to cry out of sheer terror. She looked away from me. She vaguely reminded me of a bird.

Finally, she shook her head and took a shaky breath.

"Is this a joke?"

I flinched at the sudden hostility in her voice.

"No I-"

"You think it's _funny _to bring that up, Charley? You don't know what it was like to be brainwashed and not remember anything! That monster haunted my dreams for MONTHS, and you don't give a shit that I was a mess almost every night while you were just minding your own business!"

"Amy! I'm not joking! I wouldn't tell you that unless I thought there was danger!"

"For us? The only danger here is that you are joking about something that traumatized me!"

"I AM NOT JOKING! Jocelyn's in danger! She's living in that house, and Jerry's following her around!"

"How, Charley?" Amy said coldly, "He's _dead. _You killed him yourself."

"I think something brought him back," I explained as gently as I could, "He must be a ghost or something."

"A ghost."

Her face was so twisted in anger I actually felt very afraid that she would deck me for saying what I was, but I needed her to understand! Jocelyn could be in trouble!

"Please, just hear me out," I begged, wanting desperately to explain, "A few years ago, before _he _came into the neightbourhood, I would have never believed in this supernatural bullshit. But now that we know that vampires are real and that they don't sparkle like those Twilight douchebags-"

"Get to the point," Amy interrupted.

"-Alright. Vampires are real. So why aren't ghosts?"

"What do you mean, Charley?"

I could tell that Amy was beginning to become impatient, the frown said it all.

"I mean...maybe Jerry's spirit came back for something. He must be sticking around for some reason. And Jocelyn was completely out of her mind last night when I found her at some abandoned house with a pool in the back. Who sleepwalks that far away from home?"

"So what does it have to do with Jerry?" Amy almost choked on the name, but she stayed strong in how she felt.

"I followed Joce when she was walking, and I could've sworn I saw a shadow that looked just like Jerry behind her. It was touching her back, like it was guiding her somewhere, not sleepwalking."

"It might have been your eyes playing tricks on you," Amy replied, not buying my story, "Streetlamps tend to do that."

I felt frustration bubbling, but I bit back on what I wanted to say.

"I'm serious, Amy. She wandered into the backyard, and she was holding onto something when I found her. She shoved it into her pocket."

I didn't tell her about the bit where I mysteriously got cut, but I didn't think she would believe me anyway.

"Charley, just stop. I can't do this tonight."

She grabbed her jacket and walked out of the house before I could finish.

_Well, _I thought, _I guess I'll have to tell Peter. _

*_Jocelyn's POV*_

I was scuffling about in the attic I never knew we had, searching through boxes after boxes of crap that definitely didn't belong to us. There were a bunch of old, dusty trinkets and valubles that were scattered around the place too, and I was absolutely sure I stubbed my toe on something while I was manuevering around the boxed junk. It was dusty, my eyes watered terribly, and I accidentally inhaled airborne dirt that made me cough like an old man. But I had to find something...something that would please the voice I kept hearing in whispers and breaths.

"_It's here_," I heard him say, "_Just keep looking, love_."

"Stop calling me 'love'," I muttered.

It was complete silence then, and the sound of my searching through boxes and other containers were the only things that were present in the room. To be honest, it was a bit unnerving that it was so still.

But then I felt my hand touch something that felt old and leathery. Emphasis on the _old. _Was it a tarp?

I pulled it out, letting it roll out of its rolled up form, and I nearly stopped breathing when I saw it. A picture from Mediterranean folklore…

A picture of a vampire.


	11. Where My Demons Hide

_**Author's Note: **_**Hey, everyone! I know it's been MONTHS since I last updated, I'm so sorry! I've been doing so much stuff lately that I had no free time to write (and a writer's block came up). Chapter's really short, so please READ AND REVIEW, you are much loved if you do!**

My breath was nearly taken away at my discovery of the old leather picture. The face was montrous, hungry and unearthly as its jaws had spread apart, ready to eat my soul. The eyes were pitch black, sucking every part of me into the depths of a bottomless abyss. My heart lurched, my stomach dropped, and my knees felt wobbly. My hands went cold.

I really had to stop freaking out, but I couldn't help it. There was some weird shit going on in this house and I didn't have anyone to talk to. If I told my mother, she would flip her shit. If I told my sister, she'd flip shit. Charley and Amy would flip their shit, too.

Basically, everyone would flip shit if I said anything. One-way ticket to Hell, a guarantee that I would go to the psych ward without a second thought. I was totally sure of it-_so fucking sure._

I bounded down the attic stairs to the second floor of the house, speedwalking down the hallway and into my room. The desk lamp was flicked on, dimly lighting the room with the creepy picture in my hands.

Normally when you're holding an old, leathery ancient picture that depicts a terrifying vampire from Mediterranean myth, you don't immediately think of the word _family._ It just wasn't appropriate. In fact, it was the sickest and most perverted thing you could dream of when looking at such a picture that should have inspired absolute terror. I should have dropped it, screamed, and ran the fuck out of the house, but I didn't. Instead, I saw the picture and thought _FAMILY. _It couldn't have been my thoughts; it couldn't have been me feeling an almost warm, fuzzy feeling of affection toward it. It couldn't have been me having a sudden yearning to have it all back, as if I had lost something of a dear treasure. I stared at it with wide, transfixed eyes, taking in every detail, feeling a wave of calmness and serenity wash over my eagerness to find this thing. I wanted to sway to pounding music, to feel the wind on my face...

My vision blurred at my unnatural, delirious happiness that came from nowhere. My bed morphed into a blue blob, the ceiling became a sky, the floor the earth, and I felt my heart finally calm itself into a relaxed rhythym. I felt myself sway slightly, only to have a pair of hands on my sides to steady me.

I was pulled into a pair of strong arms, against a shaped torso that seemed only to fit me, and something of a chin rest gently on top of my head. Every part of me was soaring, the room spinning in a joyous dance around me. I was sure that my breathing had started to turn into slow breaths and I felt that I was being rocked side to side-an action my mother would do to calm me.

The voice had stopped bothering me for now, but the physical sensation of being held didn't. Something like a thumb stroked at my ribcage, warm breath blew at the crown of my head, and the delirious contentment hadn't eased up at all, either.

Why was I even acting so high right now?

"Jocelyn," whispered his voice.

*_Charley's POV*_

"Look Peter, I think something is going on at Jerry's house. She's been acting strange lately since what happened at the pool. It's like…I don't even know how to describe it anymore. She's just…"

I was on the phone with the one and only magician—sorry, _illusionist_—who helped me get rid of the leech (that was after Jocelyn) a few years ago. I just couldn't believe my ears. Even the fucking person I depended on to help me didn't believe what I was trying to tell him. How was I supposed to get him to come over and at least check out what was going on in this neighbourhood? I was dying here!

"_Charley, how the fuck could Jerry survive after WE killed him? Have you ever heard of post-traumatic stress disorder? "Cause it sounds you've gone batshit crazy," _he had replied after my rant about Jocelyn and the house.

"Could you just believe me for a second? There's shit going on that can't be explained away with fucking science. How can a street lamp make a three-dimensional shadow that was walking _erect _appear behind Jocelyn and touch her? And my eyes weren't playing tricks on me either, Pete. I saw what I saw."

"_And that's what _you _saw, kid.I can't believe you when I haven't seen it with you." _

"Fuck, Peter! Can't you just take a moment and at least consider the possibility of a restless spirit form of Jerry? He was a vampire, remember? You didn't believe that, either."

I heard Peter snort rudely and then sigh in defeat as I did the kill shot of reasoning, and I couldn't hold back the bitterness I felt in my voice.

"Are you in or not? "

"_You're going to get yourself killed. Of fucking course, you dumbass." _

"Great."

Well, at least his way of saying "bro, I love you" hadn't gone from him.

"Thanks, Pete. When did you wanna meet up?"

I barely had time to register what was happening until my back had hit my bed, vampire-ghost-thing leaning over me. The hand that had swallowed my mouth whipped my head to the side, the sudden full weight of _Jerry, the fucking vampire_ pressing heavily onto my torso. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs, they burned too much.

"Shh," he tried to calm me, "Jocelyn, don't fight."

I could only squirm and exhale shakily, staring at the sudden fangs that had slipped from his gums. I kicked hard at my bedpost, the pain shooting from my heel up my leg-a motion I regretted instantly-which had earned a wickedly amused chuckle from _him. _My lamp had been turned off, the tapestry dropped to the floor, and the shutters to my window had been closed. It was completely dark, except for whatever I could see with my eyes.

Which was Jerry, who was probably very bored and very hungry.

And me, who was very alone and very vulnerable because my sister was at college and my mom wouldn't come home until the morning. Whom's muffled screaming and struggling was going in vain when an actual threat appeared in the house.

"Joce, it's just you and me. No one is going to be home for _hours._"

His free hand pinned my opposite shoulder to the bed, "We can hang out until then. And you know what? "

Freezing cold breath flew down my throat, making me shudder. His fangs were grazing my skin menacingly, ghosting over where my pulsepoint was.

"I'm starving_._"

"_Mmph!_" I cried, sounding like a wounded, surprised puppy. I kicked again, uselessly digging my feet into the covers with energy I was suddenly losing. Lead weights tied themselves to my limbs, eyelids growing heavy, muscles relaxed; the only thing I could really feel anymore was the sucking on my neck, only with no liquid coming out. No blood. I moved weakly again, but he wasn't done yet. I felt my eyes rolling into the back of my head when he pulled away suddenly, licking his lips.

I was too tired to move or struggle anymore, instead going limp to show I was done fighting.

"You've been so good to me, Joce," he whispered, leaning in again, "I just need one more thing from you."

He breathed in deeply, the form of his lips shaped into a smirk against my throat. Something wet touched there, running up to just below the soft area below my ear.

I blacked out.


End file.
